Mr Monk and the Valentine's Day Surprise
by JoAnna47
Summary: Love is in the air on Valentine's Day, and Adrian Monk has planned a very special surprise for Natalie. However, the happy couple soon discovers that the course of true love never did run smooth...
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's Note:**_

 _This story is a sequel to_ Mr. Monk and the Christmas Surprise, _also published here._ _It's not strictly necessary to read that one first, but I think you'll enjoy this story a lot more if you do. Please note that_ Mr. Monk and the Christmas Surprise _takes place shortly after_ Mr. Monk and the Badge, _and this story starts about six weeks after_ "Christmas" _concludes. Also, in my version of events,_ Mr. Monk and the End _never happened. I like my ending better. :D_

 _I started writing this sequel back in January. I'd intended to publish it on Valentine's Day - hence the title - but the story quickly took on a life of its own and I ended up writing much more than I'd originally planned. It totals forty chapters, which equates to ~107,000 words. The Word document is over 200 pages! Yes, this is my very own Monk novel. Haha. Eat your hearts out, Hy Conrad and Lee Goldberg. ;) And I'm even considering making this series a trilogy! (I think I'm an addict...)_

 _I'll likely post a new chapter every few days... unless, of course, I get a ton of reviews begging and pleading for a more frequent posting schedule. *hint, hint*_

 _So strap on your seat belts; here we go._

* * *

On the first day of February, Julie Teeger was studying for a math test when her dorm room phone rang.

"Hey, Julie?" said her friend Tony, who worked the dorm reception desk part-time. "There's a really weird guy down here asking for you."

Julie frowned. "What do you mean, 'really weird'?"

"Well… he's currently rearranging all the papers on the notice board so they're more symmetrical. He says we'll thank him later."

"That's just Mr. Monk," Julie said, laughing.

" _Adrian_ Monk? The famous detective?" Tony's question caught her by surprise initially, but then she remembered he was a criminal justice major.

"Yes, that's him. Tell him I'll be down in a minute." She grabbed her coat, hat, gloves, and purse, just in case — she'd been thinking of running over to the cafeteria for a snack, anyway — and headed down the hall to the elevator.

When she arrived downstairs, she found Tony listening in rapt fascination as Mr. Monk described a case. "Here's what happened," she heard Mr. Monk say as she stepped off the elevator. "I realized that the jewels had never left the jewelry store; the first break-in had been staged. That's why there was a second break-in — the employee who stole them had hid them in the store, intending to get them out of their hiding place in a few days later, once the hubbub from the 'robbery' had died down. But he was fired unexpectedly the day after the fake break-in, so he tried to get them back with a real break-in. When that didn't work, he had his girlfriend pose as a customer, and she tried to get them out. But when I — oh, hi, Julie!"

"Hey, Mr. Monk," she said, glancing around the lobby area. "Where's Mom?"

"Uh… I'm actually here by myself," he said, looking distinctly uncomfortable.

That was a surprise. "How did you get here?"

"I took a cab."

That was an even bigger surprise. " _You_ took a cab?"

He shrugged, rolling his shoulders. "I was hoping I could talk to you. Alone. Please?"

"Um, sure," Julie said, puzzled. "We can take a walk, if you want."

"Great," Monk said, shoulders sagging in relief.

"Wait!" Tony protested. "What about the case?"

Julie rolled her eyes. " _Later_ , Tony," she said, taking Mr. Monk's arm and leading him out the door.

 _There is something different about him,_ she thought as they strolled toward the quad. Mr. Monk seemed… calmer. More at ease with the world. He didn't see the need avoid the cracks on the sidewalk, for one thing. For another, her hat was slightly crooked and he hadn't needed to adjust it.

He seemed to know exactly where they were going, so she just followed him.

"So, what's up?" she asked curiously, once he'd led them to a bench on the quad and they'd both sat down. She couldn't imagine why he would take a cab all the way to Berkeley — _without_ her mom — just to talk to her.

He stared off into the distance for nearly a full minute before speaking. "I need your help," he said, slowly. "And your advice."

Julie's eyes narrowed. "Mr. Monk, look, I don't want to give any relationship advice when my mom is involved. That's a really awkward position to be in, and I won't — "

"No, no, nothing like that," he interrupted. "It's not relationship help, per se, it's… something else."

"Okay…" Julie said cautiously, waiting for him to continue. She grew concerned when he didn't. What was going on here? Maybe they'd split up and he was trying to figure out how to deliver the news.

She ventured, "Are you… breaking up with her?"

That got a reaction. "What? No!" he exclaimed. He turned to face her, a look of horror on his face. "No! Just the opposite."

Julie shook her head. "Mr. Monk, I don't understand. What — "

"I want to marry her," he said, meeting her eyes squarely.

"Oh." The enormity of what he'd just said struck her, and she stared at him in disbelief. " _Oh!_ But… you…"

"What do you think?" he said, hesitantly. "I know it's been just you and your mom for a very long time, so I thought I should… well… ask your permission first, before asking her."

Julie was speechless for a moment. "Well — yeah. I mean, yes, it's fine with me, as long as it's what _she_ wants. I'm just… surprised. I… I heard you say once that you'd always be Trudy's husband."

He nodded. "A part of me will always belong to her," he said simply. "But a part of me belongs to your mom, too, I've realized. I'll never love anyone the same way I loved Trudy, but… as it turns out, there are different ways of loving that are just as good."

Julie realized her mouth was still hanging open and shut it abruptly. "It's only been a month, hasn't it? Since you started… your relationship?"

"Officially, I suppose, but given our history together we know each other as well as any two people ever could," he shrugged. "And when you know… you _know_."

"How long had you been dating Trudy before you proposed?" she asked.

He smiled, awash in reminisces. "Two years. I asked her to marry me two years to the day after our first date." He looked down at the bench. "This is where we were sitting when I told her I loved her for the first time. And where I asked her to marry me."

"Oh, wow." Julie smoothed her glove reverently over the wooden seat.

"I wanted to ask Trudy to marry me right away after our first date, but I could tell she wasn't ready for that yet. So I waited until she was." He studied the bench, too, and then looked up at Julie. "But with your mom… it's different. I know it seems very fast, but I'm not a young man anymore, and I know now more than ever how precious time is. I don't want to waste a moment of it."

"When are you going to ask her? Tonight?"

He shook his head. "I was thinking Valentine's Day. I want to cook a fancy dinner for her. I used to do that for Trudy on special occasions, but I haven't really cooked for Natalie yet, so I thought I'd cook a nice dinner and then… afterwards, I'd ask her." He twisted his hands together. "What do you think?"

"I think she'll love it," Julie assured him. "Daddy couldn't really cook, but I remember he liked taking Mom and me out for fancy dinners whenever he was stateside."

For some reason, her statement made him look worried. "Julie, I hope you know I'm not trying to replace your father," he began. "I would never try to usurp his place in your heart, and I — "

She did something then that utterly shocked him. She leaned forward and kissed his cheek.

"Mr. Monk, you're very sweet," she said. "It's no wonder Mom is so crazy about you."

He blushed, but looked very pleased. And he didn't seem repulsed by her kiss, nor did he try to wipe it off.

"I was hoping you could help me with a few things," he said, shuffling his feet and shifting on the bench. "I'm having trouble deciding on a menu for the dinner, and I want to pick out a ring she'll like but there are so many choices, and I — "

"You want _me_ to help choose her _engagement ring_?" Julie squealed. "When? Now? Can we go now? We can take my car."

He did something she'd rarely, if ever, heard him do — he laughed. Not just a chuckle, but a hearty, heartfelt laugh.

"If you have time, we can go now," he said, rising to his feet. Julie rose as well, and they began to walk back to the dorms, and the student lot where her car was parked. "There's actually a specific jewelry store I want to go to — I solved a murder/robbery there last week, and the owner was so grateful to get his stolen jewels back that he offered me a really good discount on any future purchases…"


	2. Chapter 2

_This is a long chapter, but I didn't want to break it up, so you get it all in one fell swoop. Thanks for the reviews so far!_

* * *

Natalie Teeger was nervous.

It was absurd, really, that she was as nervous as she was. Tonight was merely dinner with her boyfriend, Adrian Monk – although "boyfriend" seemed like such a silly term for him. She didn't know what else to call him, though. They were much more than friends, but not really partners. "Significant other" was more accurate, but too cumbersome. She couldn't even say they were lovers, because that wasn't true.

Yet.

But it _was_ part of the reason she was so nervous for tonight. She'd finally decided that she was ready to take the next step in their relationship, one that he'd wanted to take since the first day of their official relationship as — whatever they were. A couple.

She still felt a little dazed, sometimes, when she thought about how fast her life had changed – how _their_ lives had changed – in only one week's time; specifically, from Christmas Day to New Year's Day. In the span of those seven days, they'd found out that her late husband Mitch hadn't been a casualty of war, but rather a victim of homicide; that Trudy Monk, in her capacity as a journalist, had been working with him to expose senior Navy officials involved in a child sex-trafficking ring based in Kosovo; and that both Mitch and Trudy had been murdered on orders from the ringleader of the whole operation: Dale "the Whale" Biederbeck.

Also in the span of those seven days, Natalie and Adrian had, somehow, fallen in love.

They both admitted that, in hindsight, they'd felt attraction for one another before the events of that tumultuous week. The sudden revelations about Mitch and Trudy, however, had the unexpected consequence of bringing their mutual, if tentative, feelings to the forefront, and from there they had rapidly blossomed into love.

And love had transformed Adrian Monk. For one thing, his OCD had calmed down enormously – he was using only half the amount of wipes he normally did, he spent significantly less time cleaning, and the other day Natalie had pointed out a tiny stain on his shirt _that he hadn't yet noticed_ _himself_. It was astonishing, really.

His personality had changed, too. In all the years she'd worked with him, he'd been very self-absorbed, to the point of occasional callousness and sometimes even unintentional cruelty (such as after he'd been shot by John Kuramoto and had made her life a living hell for a few weeks).

He'd occasionally surprised her with considerate gestures or kind words, and more rarely with astounding acts of bravery, usually related to a case (such as when he had saved Mr. Henry for Julie, shortly after they'd met), but for the most part, he'd been too preoccupied with his own grief to really connect with her, or anyone.

Now, however, he showered her with affection – loving words, little gifts, thoughtful actions, hugs and kisses and touches – on a constant basis. In the last six weeks, she finally, and completely, understood why Trudy Monk had been so devoted to him. She'd never really understood it before, but she did now. Adrian treated her, Natalie, like a queen – and she both loved and was amazed by it, which was no doubt the way Trudy had felt.

Adrian Monk in love was an entirely different person than Adrian Monk shackled by grief and sorrow and crippled by OCD. She could see, now, that the "Mr. Monk" she had known and worked with for so many years hadn't been the authentic Adrian Monk, but more like a weak imitation. The man in love with her was the _real_ Adrian, and she felt fortunate to know him at last.

What astounded her most about their newfound relationship was that she could hardly keep up with his physical expressions of love. In the very beginning stages of their relationship, before they'd even kissed one another for the first time, she'd worried about that very issue. She didn't think she would last long in a relationship that didn't include physical affection, and she hadn't known if he was capable, due to his OCD, of offering what she needed.

But he'd proven her fears unfounded on New Year's Eve, when, after she'd finally confessed her feelings for him, they'd spent over two hours making out — which was such a juvenile term, but there really was no other way to describe it — on the secluded terrace of the San Francisco Four Seasons, during the SFPD Charity Gala.

Even more incredible, he'd wanted to do more than kissing, both when they were on the terrace and after they'd returned to her house that night, but _she'd_ been the one to put the brakes on anything further. It wasn't because she didn't want to – on the contrary, she was incredibly attracted to him, and often found it difficult to restrain herself around him these days – but more because she wanted to take that part of the relationship a little slower, and give them both time to adjust to their new circumstances before they rushed headlong into sexual intimacy. She didn't know about him, but _she_ needed a little breathing room to make the mental adjustment.

He'd behaved admirably over the last six weeks. There'd been plenty of kissing and even some heavy petting, but he'd always backed off when she asked him to — even when, she could tell, it was a serious effort for him. He hadn't pushed, hadn't acted impatient. He'd been a perfect gentleman.

But, now, Natalie felt ready.

She'd actually felt ready a little over two weeks ago, the evening of the first major case — a murder/robbery at an upscale jewelry store — that he'd solved since they'd begun their romantic relationship. They'd both been keyed up and excited that night, still on an adrenaline high after the dramatic "here's what happened" denouement, and her exhilaration at solving the case as well as her pride in him had the unexpected effect of cementing her decision to take the next step in their relationship.

Unfortunately, the arrival of her menstrual flow had put a damper on the evening. She hadn't said a word to him about it — he'd improved a _lot_ but she doubted he'd be able to handle hearing about her period. So she'd said she was just tired after the eventful day, and they'd made it an early evening. Thankfully, he'd seemed rather preoccupied and hadn't objected.

A week later he'd told her of his plan to cook a fancy dinner for her on Valentine's Day, and she'd decided she'd give him a special evening in return. It would be a fitting way to celebrate a holiday devoted to love.

Natalie wondered if he suspected anything. He'd seemed very distracted and secretive the last two weeks or so. She had no doubt it was due to the plans for the fancy dinner, but it'd made her feel just a little lonely and left out.

To cheer herself up, she'd bought a new dress for the occasion. It was a bit more daring than what she usually wore, but appropriate for Valentine's Day. She'd modeled it for Julie, who had enthusiastically approved.

She hadn't told Julie that there was matching lingerie, which she hoped Adrian would appreciate.

She hadn't seen him at all today, as he'd said he'd need the entire day for dinner preparations. But that was okay — she'd indulged in a facial and a long bubble bath, and then she'd gotten her hair cut and styled.

Natalie had strict instructions to arrive at his place at seven p.m. sharp, and as she pulled up to his apartment, it was 6:58. She took a minute to smooth her hair and check her make-up one last time. Satisfied, she locked her car and carefully made her way to his door — her heels were high and the ground was wet from recent rain. It was precisely seven p.m. as she unlocked his door and stepped inside.

She'd barely eaten a thing all day — too nervous — so the delectable smells that bombarded her nose nearly made her weep with hunger. She had no idea what he had on the menu, but it smelled marvelous. The lighting was dim, and there was music playing, something soft and classical with gorgeous violin harmonies. She carefully removed her coat, gloves, and scarf and hung them on the coatrack, along with her purse, before wandering over to the dining room.

She gasped and then sighed at the scene that greeted her eyes. He'd pulled out all the stops. The table was beautifully set with two place settings of gleaming china, glittering crystal, and heavy silver. Two long white candles flickered romantically in silver candlesticks, flanking a centerpiece of long-stemmed white roses in a clear glass vase. And Adrian was there, pouring champagne into crystal flutes.

The elegant decor wasn't the only reason for her gasp. He was wearing different clothes. Instead of his standard brown pants, plaid shirt, brown sport coat ensemble, he was dressed in slate gray pants and a dark red shirt, and a necktie of striped red and gray. She hardly recognized him, but found the outfit very attractive.

"Right on time," he said as he carefully set the champagne bottle on the table. "Dinner is — " As he spoke, he looked up. But when he saw her, he suddenly lost the ability to talk.

She shimmered in a sleek red dress nearly the same color as his shirt. It fit snugly and stopped teasingly high on her thighs. Her arms were bare, and the neckline plunged alluringly. Red heels made her bare legs look a mile high. Her hair was styled differently than usual, pulled back a bit in the front, the back all sleek and smooth with a slightly sassy flip at the ends. Carefully applied make-up made her eyes look enormous, and the bold slash of her red lipstick matched her dress. On her neck glittered the diamond pendant he'd given her at Christmas.

For a moment, Adrian could only stare at her in awe. How was it possible that this stunning creature loved _him_? He felt like dropping to his knees and begging pardon for presuming to be worthy of her.

He tried to speak as she walked toward him, but even though his mouth moved, he couldn't make any sounds come out.

She took his face in her hands and kissed him, gently, and her touch was enough to get the blood flowing to his head again. "Holy God, Natalie," he breathed, once she had ended the kiss. "Are you trying to kill me?"

"No," she all but purred. "You need to be alive for what I have in mind."

Apparently, he wasn't the only one who had big plans for the evening.

He swallowed hard, trying to think if their meal could be delayed for an hour. Or two. Or maybe he could save the food for tomorrow's breakfast. People ate roast chicken and steamed vegetables for breakfast all the time, didn't they?

Natalie could almost see the thoughts whirring in his head. "It smells great in here," she said, running a finger down his tie. "What's for dinner?"

"Dinner. Right," he muttered, forcing himself to turn his attention back to the meal. "Um. Have a seat. I-I'll bring it out."

He pulled out a chair for her and she gracefully sat, spreading the white linen napkin in her lap and reaching for the champagne flute. She sipped, and murmured approvingly.

Dinner turned out to be a dish he called "Chicken and Forty Cloves" — essentially, chicken roasted with forty cloves of garlic. There were also dinner rolls, mashed potatoes, and steamed mixed vegetables.

"You made all this?" Natalie said, marveling at the array of dishes before her.

"Sort of," he said, carefully spooning vegetables on her plate. "I bought the vegetables already washed and cut, so all I had to do was steam them. The potatoes were pre-made; I bought them at the deli. The rolls are from the bakery. I did cook the chicken myself, although I bought it already cut up." He shuddered at the thought of cutting up a chicken in his pristine kitchen.

"I am impressed," Natalie said sincerely. She took a bite of chicken and sighed, chewing ecstatically. "This is amazing. I need the get the recipe."

"It is a great recipe," he said as he carefully and precisely cut his meat. "Eight pieces of chicken, forty cloves of garlic, ten sprigs of thyme. All even numbers. Really quite numerically beautiful."

Natalie hid a smile behind her water glass.

"Julie found it on 'Food Network dot com,'" Adrian continued, taking a bite himself. "She can send it to you."

"Julie?" Natalie shook her head, smiling. "Was she in on this?" That explained more than a few self-satisfied glances her daughter had given her whenever they'd seen each other over the past few weeks.

"She helped me plan it," Adrian admitted. "It's been a long time since I've done a meal like this, so I brought in reinforcements."

"I bet she got a kick out of it," Natalie said, sipping again of the excellent champagne.

"She did seem in her element." Adrian sipped a bit of the champagne too, hoping the alcohol would give him some liquid courage for what was ahead. He felt discreetly in his pocket, making sure the burgundy velvet ring box was still there.

Natalie ate until she was stuffed, wishing her dress was not quite so snug. Then again, if all went well, she wouldn't be wearing it much longer.

"That was wonderful," she sighed, leaning back in her chair. "I couldn't eat another bite."

"No room for dessert?" he asked, eating his last bite of chicken. "I bought cheesecake at the bakery too."

She groaned. "It sounds great, but I'm too full. I think you're going to have to roll me out of here."

"You can sit there and let things settle while I clean up," he said, rising as he carefully stacked their plates together.

"Not a chance!" she protested. "I'll help you."

"Natalie, you're my guest. This night is for you. I can't let you help clean up," he returned, even as she got to her feet and began placing lids on serving dishes.

"Let me put it this way, Adrian," she said, moving to stand by his side. "The sooner we get the clean-up out of the way, the sooner we can... enjoy ourselves." She reached up and ran a finger down his cheek. "I don't want to wait too long."

His throat went dry and his pulse raced at her suggestive tone. He couldn't help himself – he seized her arms and hauled her up against him, kissing her passionately. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her body against his. He groaned in pleasure as she deliberately rubbed against him, and for the first time in his life he considered leaving the dishes until later. But part of his brain vehemently protested at the thought of leaving a sink full of dirty dishes to fester in the kitchen, and with great reluctance he broke the kiss.

"Okay, you can help," he said hoarsely.

She smiled. "I knew you'd see it my way."

Natalie took care of putting the leftover food in his refrigerator, along with the remnants of the bottle of champagne, as Adrian carefully hand-washed the delicate dishes.

"Those dishes are beautiful," Natalie remarked. "I've never seen them before. Are they yours?"

Adrian nodded. "They were wedding gifts. They've been in storage for a while." He suddenly looked guilty. "I... hope it's okay that I used these."

She hugged him from behind. "Adrian, you know I don't expect you to pretend that your marriage to Trudy never existed. Same goes with my marriage."

He would have kissed her if he hadn't been elbow-deep in dirty dishwater. "Thank you," he said instead.

She gave him another squeeze and went to load the non-delicate dishes into his dishwasher.

Sooner than would have been possible without her help, the clean-up was done. He finished scrubbing and rinsing his rubber gloves and then stripped them off to air dry. He removed his white apron, neatly folded it, and put it in the kitchen laundry bin. He glanced around the kitchen, making sure everything was put away and scrubbed clean. It was.

"By the way," Natalie said from the kitchen doorway, "I love the new look."

He blinked, momentarily confused, but quickly realized she was referring to his clothing.

"Oh," he said with a self-conscious chuckle, moving over to her. "Julie's idea. She, uh, kind of insisted on taking me shopping." And he'd been so euphoric after the purchase of the ring that he'd let her pick out his current clothing for him with hardly a word of protest. "The tie has ten gray stripes and ten red stripes." The salesman had been very confused when that particular selling point had been the deciding factor.

Natalie gently fingered the necktie, absently wondering if Julie had encouraged her to buy the red dress because it coordinated with his shirt and tie, or if she'd encouraged Adrian to buy the shirt and tie because they coordinated with her dress.

"You look very debonair," she said. "And _very_ sexy." Her hand fisted around his tie and she tugged his head down to meet hers for a long, deep kiss.

At its conclusion, she trailed the tie through her fingers and tugged it again, this time in the direction of the doorway. "Come on," she whispered. "Let's go."

"Where are we going?" he asked dumbly, his brain still reeling from the intensity of the kiss.

"To your bedroom." She took a step in that direction, but he didn't follow her. "What's wrong?" She bit her bottom lip. "You don't want to?" Her voice held confusion but also a note of hurt.

His mind was starting to work again. "I do! God, yes, I do, but… could we, ah, go into the living room for a little while, first?" He wanted to ask her in the room where they had first met.

She still looked confused, but less worried. "All right."

When they entered the living room, he gently took her shoulders and guided her to a specific spot near the doorway. "There. Stand right there."

"What's so special about right here?" she asked, her brow furrowing.

He smiled. "That's exactly where you were standing the first time I ever saw you." He walked over to a spot nearer the fireplace. "And this is where I was standing."

"With a fire extinguisher in your hands, counting off the steps from the flaming wastepaper basket," she added, laughing at the memory. She crossed her arms and shook her head. "If you'd told me that day that we'd end up where we are now, I would have said you were even crazier than I already thought you were."

"I probably would have thought the same," he agreed ruefully.

"You thought _I_ was crazy?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I thought everyone else was crazy, and that I was the only normal one," he explained. "Sometimes I still do."

She smiled. "I think we've all had that feeling." She shifted on her feet and waved her arms in a questioning gesture. "So, why am I standing where you first saw me?"

"Because I want to ask you a question." It was time, and his stomach was churning violently. The chicken suddenly seemed like a bad idea. He swallowed hard, desperate to quell his anxiety.

She shook her head, still puzzled, and a little annoyed, too. "Ask me what?"

"Here's the thing…" Adrian began, then stopped. Although he had thought up speech after speech in the preceding weeks, right now he couldn't remember a single word of any of them. He decided to keep it short and simple.

He approached her, slowly. She watched him come nearer, growing more and more confused by the second.

To her utter shock, he sank down on one knee, taking the ring box out of his pocket and opening it as he knelt. He held it up to her. "Natalie, will you marry me?"

Natalie gasped, covering her mouth with her hands, the blood draining from her face. For a long moment she stood, frozen in astonishment, unable to say a word.

 _Adrian was proposing to her._

She'd never expected that he would do this, not for a single minute. It had only been six weeks, give or take a few days, that they'd even admitted their mutual love for one another. But she'd have felt equally as flabbergasted if it had been six years. She'd tacitly acknowledged that despite their love, and despite the fact that he'd stopped wearing his wedding ring, he'd always be Trudy's husband and would never want to be anyone else's, no matter what he felt for her.

In a single instant, and not for the first time in the years she'd known him, he had turned her assumptions upside down.

She realized, belatedly, that he was still down on one knee, waiting for her to answer, but as she opened her mouth the room started spinning.

"I need to sit down," she managed, right before her knees buckled.

"Natalie!" He sprang forward, ring box and all, and caught her in his arms before she hit the floor.

He steered her over to his brown leather recliner, and he shoved the ring box back in his pocket at the same time he pushed her head between her knees. "I'll be right back," he told her even as he rushed to the kitchen for a glass of water.

She still had her head between her knees when he returned a minute later, and he eased her up and put the glass in her hands. "Here, drink this," he said anxiously, kneeling next to the chair.

Natalie drained the glass, her hands trembling slightly as she lowered it from her mouth. He took it from her and set it on the end table, then covered her hands with his own. The distress on his face tore at her heart.

"Yes," she blurted, startling them both.

He caught his breath, desperately hoping that he hadn't just imagined her response. "You're saying yes?" he asked cautiously, his heart hammering in his chest.

"I'm saying yes," she confirmed, laughing a little. Her eyes filled with tears at the expression of utter joy that suffused his face.

He leaned forward, his eyes bright and eager, and they spent the next few minutes locked in a long, tender kiss.

"Can I see that ring again?" she asked, once they were forced to come up for air. She'd been so overwhelmed at the proposal itself that she'd barely glanced at the ring.

He fumbled in his pocket and gingerly placed the little velvet box in her hand. She opened it and sighed. "Oh, Adrian… it's beautiful."

The ring was stunning. It was white gold and had an intricately wrought, lovely halo setting with trillion diamond accents and a perfectly round cut center diamond, which looked flawless to her untrained eye. As it sparkled brilliantly in the soft light of the living room, she suddenly realized that it looked somewhat familiar, as did the logo stamped on the inside top of the box – Faddis Fine Jewelers.

"This is from the store we were at a few weeks ago," she said, with dawning realization. "The murder/robbery case that you solved."

" _We_ solved," he corrected. "Mr. Faddis said he thought he saw you admiring this one." He took it from its box and slid it onto her left ring finger. It fit perfectly. She wasn't surprised that he'd been able to accurately guess her ring size.

"In fact," he continued, his fingers caressing hers, "the diamond is one of the jewels you helped recover. He wanted you — us — to have it."

"He _gave_ it to you?" She felt like she might pass out in earnest this time.

Adrian nodded, pocketing the ring box. "I paid for the setting, but the stone was his gift." He ran his fingers over the shimmering diamond. "I thought it was fitting, given that we met because of a case."

He looked up at her, then, and saw the tears trickling down her cheeks. He smoothed her hair back from her face. "Why are you crying?" he asked, a little bewildered.

"They're happy tears," she sniffed, admiring her gorgeous new ring. "I never thought — never dared hope — " She half-laughed, half-sobbed. "I can't wait to tell Julie. I think she'll be even more surprised than I am."

"Well — probably not, actually."

She looked up quickly at that, and saw his self-deprecating grin. "She helped plan the proposal, too?"

"No, but she knew it was going to happen. And she helped me pick out the ring. But I asked her first," Adrian added quickly. "I mean, I asked her permission to ask you."

"You asked her permission," Natalie repeated slowly, in an odd tone of voice.

"I thought I should, since it's just been the two of you for so long," he said uncertainly. Was she offended? He couldn't tell. "She said that it was fine with her as long as it was what you wanted, so — "

The force of her sudden embrace took him by surprise and he nearly fell backwards onto the floor, but recovered admirably, staggering to his feet while clutching her against his chest like a lifeline.

Natalie was overcome with emotion. He had _asked her daughter_ for permission to propose. Ever since she'd started dating again, she'd yearned to find a man who would not only love her, but who would also accept her daughter and involve her in their lives as if she was their own. It turned out that man had been in front of her the entire time.

She'd instinctively known that the day he'd saved Mr. Henry, which was why she'd taken the job as his assistant in the first place, but she had just now realized that she hadn't merely agreed to marry the man she loved, she'd also agreed to marry the man who would become a substitute father for her daughter – and one who had just shown her, in the most perfect way, that he had every intention of being that father.

"Do you have any idea how much I love you?" she said, her voice muffled against his neck.

"Hopefully just as much as I love you," he said, burying his face in her hair.

She angled her face up and found his mouth. Suddenly, all of the emotion, all of the uncertainty and anxiety and tears that had punctuated the night coalesced into hot, blinding need.

They devoured each other's mouths frantically, mindlessly, as if their mutual survival depended on it. After several passionate minutes, Natalie pulled back. "We _really_ need to go to your bedroom, _right now_ ," she said, gulping for air as she clutched at his shirt.

"Yes," he agreed emphatically, and they began stumbling down the hall, still locked in an embrace and unwilling to let go.


	3. Chapter 3

_Sorry if you were expecting more... details... but this story is PG-13, not R. :D_

* * *

For a long while afterward, Adrian lay on top of Natalie, insensible, listening to his own raspy breathing in concert with hers. He knew, intellectually, that he should move — he was probably crushing her — but he couldn't seem to make his limbs follow the commands of his brain.

He felt his heart hammering against hers, felt her soft breasts against the bare skin of his chest, smelled the soft perfume on her neck, and he wished he could lay there forever, just feeling her against him.

At length, he spoke. "I was right," he murmured, his voice muffled by the comforter. "You are trying to kill me."

She laughed weakly, knowing exactly how he felt. "But what a way to go."

"Oh yeah." He summoned the energy prop himself up on his elbows, taking some of his weight off of her. Her eyes were open, but vague and unfocused. "You okay?" he asked, feeling a surge of protectiveness and love.

She smiled dreamily. In the last six weeks or so, she'd occasionally – okay, _frequently_ – fantasized about what it would be like when they finally made love, but the actual experience had completely surpassed her expectations. "I'm wonderful."

"Yes, you are," he agreed as he lowered his mouth to hers.

They shared a long, lingering kiss, after which he rested his forehead against hers. He, too, hadn't been quite prepared for the intensity of their passion, nor had he expected how completely, gloriously satiated he'd feel afterwards. "I think I'd forgotten just how incredible that felt," he confessed.

"Me too," she sighed. "It's been a long time."

"Twelve years," he said, echoing her sigh. "Give or take a few months."

"Mm-hmm."

His brain was still reeling from the ardor of their lovemaking, so it took him a minute, but what she'd said — or rather, hadn't said — suddenly struck him.

"Not for you," he said, raising his head to look at her.

She looked at him blankly. "What?"

"It hasn't been twelve years for you." When she didn't say a word, he stared at her. "Has it?"

She blushed. "I haven't been with anyone else since Mitch," she admitted. "Until now."

"But you — " He stopped, not wanting to offend her. When they'd met, she'd already been on birth control. He'd embarrassed her horribly by noticing her pills and talking about them in front of an eleven-year-old Julie. He'd just assumed that she'd been taking them for a reason.

"I was prepared for the possibility after a certain point," she conceded, "but I… I never met anyone I was serious enough about to consider taking that step." She shrugged, the movement a little awkward considering he was still laying on top of her. "I had a daughter to raise; I had to set a good example for her."

"But you were planning to take that step with _me_ tonight," he said, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Even though you didn't know I was going to propose."

"I think I've been planning to take that step since New Year's Eve," she said, stroking his cheek. "I just… wasn't quite ready until now."

"Well," he said, leaning down to kiss her again, "as it turns out, your timing was impeccable."

When their kiss ended, she sighed. "I hate to say this," she said with regret, "but I need to get up. Nature is calling."

His eyes widened. "Oh. Um, sure." He slowly withdrew from her, groaning as he did.

She slid off the bed and dashed to the bathroom. He grabbed a tissue from the box on his bedside table and cleaned himself up as best he could, resolving to do a better job once the bathroom was free.

When Natalie returned, she had to stifle a grin. Adrian had picked up all of their discarded items of clothing and left them folded neatly on top of his laundry hamper. Their shoes were lined up beside it. He was currently standing at the side of the bed, a spray bottle of cleaner in one hand and a washcloth in the other, wiping at a damp spot on the comforter. She wondered if he remembered that he was stark naked. Then again, so was she.

"It didn't get too messy, did it?" she asked, leaning against the doorjamb.

He glanced over, startled. "Not too bad. Usually Trudy and I would put down a towel first, but I forgot." He flushed as he realized what he'd just said. "Uh… sorry. I probably shouldn't talk about that."

"I don't mind, Adrian. Really."

He shook his head as he kept blotting the damp spot on his bedspread. "I don't want you to feel like I'm comparing you to Trudy all the time."

"I don't think you're doing that when you talk about your life with her."

He glanced at her, then back at the bed, his movements slower. "It really doesn't bother you?"

"Of course not." Something occurred to her, suddenly, and she frowned slightly. "Does it bother _you_ when I talk about Mitch?"

"No," he said, turning to look her straight in the eye so that she could see he was sincere. "No, not at all."

"Good," she said, smiling in relief, and decided to change the subject. "Hey, I'm hungry. I think you said something earlier about cheesecake?"

"In the refrigerator." He put his cleaning supplies away on the closet shelf, and then took his bathrobe off its hanger. Considering, he reached in his closet for his spare bathrobe and tossed it to her.

She grinned, and slipped it on. It was enormous on her, but soft and warm. "Thanks."

"Do you mind if I take a shower?" he asked.

"Go right ahead. While you do that, I'll investigate the cheesecake situation."

As she walked down the hall, she saw her purse hanging with her coat and decided to dig out her cellphone to check her voicemail and text messages. She had very deliberately muted her phone at the start of the evening, but turned the sound back on now. There was always the chance that the captain could call with a case for them, but hopefully murder would take a holiday for the next few hours.

There had been no calls, but Julie had texted her three times. The first message, sent shortly after Natalie had left the house, said, simply, _Happy Valentine's Day!_

The second had come about an hour later. _Hope you're having a great dinner!_

The third had arrived about twenty minutes ago. _Can't wait to hear about your evening._

She grinned at her daughter's impatient and not-so-subtle attempts to fish for information, and decided to tease her a little. She texted:

 _Dinner was great!_

The reply came almost immediately, telling her that her Julie was probably glued to her phone, eager for an update. _Good to hear! Anything else you want to tell me?_

Natalie texted back, _The chicken was fantastic. Send me that recipe!_

No reply for several minutes. Then:

 _Has Mr. Monk asked you any interesting questions tonight?_

Natalie chuckled and decided to put her daughter out of her misery. _He did… and I said yes!_

 _I KNEW IT! CONGRATS!_

 _Thanks, honey. Talk to you in the morning, OK? Love you._

 _Love you too, future Mrs. Monk. Tell future stepdad that he owes me._

Natalie blinked at this. Their engagement was so brand-new that she hadn't even had time to think about everything it entailed — including her prospective name change.

"Mrs. Monk," she said aloud.

"Natalie Monk," she tried again.

Both names sounded strange and foreign to her ears. She was so accustomed to thinking of "Mrs. Monk" as Trudy… not herself.

When Adrian had finished his shower, he went into the kitchen and found Natalie lounging at the counter as she ate cheesecake and sipped leftover champagne. Her cell phone was on the counter in front of her and she appeared lost in thought.

"How's the cheesecake?" he asked, bringing her back to reality with a jolt.

"Delicious," she said, polishing off the last bite.

"Did you talk to Julie?" he asked, nodding toward her cell phone.

"We texted a few times." She pulled up the messages on her screen and handed the phone to him.

He grinned initially, but this was replaced by a faintly disoriented expression when he read Julie's last message.

"'Stepdad'," he said, blinking a few times. "That… didn't really occur to me until now." He'd known, theoretically, that he'd become Julie's stepfather if he married Natalie, but he hadn't thought about it all that much – it'd seemed more like an honorary term. But Julie's text had made him fully grasp that it signified a brand-new type of relationship between the two of them. He would have a _stepdaughter_ – and that realization made him momentarily dizzy.

"I felt the same way about 'Mrs. Monk,'" she agreed.

He frowned at this, laying her cellphone back on the counter. "You don't want to change your name?"

She shrugged. "It's just that it's going to be really strange having a brand-new last name. It was the same way when I went from Davenport to Teeger."

He fiddled with the belt of his robe, and she could tell he was struggling with something in his mind. Finally, he said, very reluctantly, "You don't _have_ to change your name if you don't want to. I'll understand if you want to stay Natalie Teeger."

Natalie shook her head. "There are some things that I'm very traditional about, and this is one of them. I took Mitch's name when we were married, and I fully intend to take yours, too. It's just going to take some getting used to."

He smiled in obvious relief. "For what it's worth, I'm glad." He glanced at her cell phone. "I don't know about this stepdad thing, though. I'm very inexperienced."

"I wouldn't say that," she said lightly, picking up the phone and dropping it in the pocket of her robe. "You've been doing a great job for the past five years or so." She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "We're just making it official."

He grinned, pleased beyond words to hear her say so. "Well, if you can be Mrs. Monk, I guess I can be a stepdad."

Natalie drank the last of her champagne. Her new ring sparkled in the light as she set the glass down, and she held out her hand to admire it again. "I _never_ expected to become Mrs. Monk," she mused.

"Why not?" he asked, casually leaning against the counter and reaching over to lace her fingers with his.

She gave him a wry glance. "You're seriously wondering why I never expected I would marry you in the first few years that I worked as your assistant?"

"No," he said, chuckling a little. "I mean… after we fell in love. Why were you so shocked when I proposed?"

She sighed. "I knew you loved me, and I knew you'd taken off your wedding ring… but I guess I assumed that you'd _always_ be Trudy's husband, no matter what you felt about me."

He rubbed her fingers gently. "You know what's funny? Julie said almost the exact same thing to me when I told her I wanted to marry you."

"What'd you tell her?" Natalie said softly.

"I told her that a part of me will always belong to Trudy, but that a part of me belongs to you, too. And I said that I'll never love anyone the same way I loved Trudy, but there are different ways of loving that are just as good." He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers. "I don't think I quite realized that until I fell in love with you."

She leaned into him, pillowing her head against his chest. "When did you decide to propose?"

"When we were working the case." He wrapped his arms around her. "After I did my summation, you hugged me, remember?"

"I remember."

"I looked at you, in that moment, and I suddenly realized… you're my answer."

Natalie smiled, remembering when he'd once said the same thing about T.K. and Leland Stottlemeyer.

He began to gently rub circles on her back. "I have to admit, it left me reeling for a while. I was rather relieved when you said you were tired and wanted to go home early."

"That was the night I knew I was ready to make love with you," Natalie said without thinking. His gentle massage, along with the additional champagne she'd just consumed, had left her feeling delightfully adrift. The words escaped before she could stop herself.

Adrian's hands stilled, and he shifted so he could look into her face. "Then why on earth did you want to go home early?"

Natalie gulped. Well, if he truly wanted to marry her, then he needed to start getting used to all that entailed: for better or for worse, for cleaner _or_ for messier. "Because after we got back here… I saw that my, um, period had started." She held her breath as she waited for his reaction.

He stared at her for a long moment, uncomprehending, and then realization dawned. " _Oh_. I see." He blew out a breath. "Well, that makes sense."

She smiled in relief. "After you told me about your plan for a fancy dinner last week, I decided that tonight would be a good night to… surprise you." She glanced at her ring again. "Obviously, I didn't realize the extent of your plans."

"As it turns out, we've _both_ had a very special evening." He leaned down and kissed her deeply, and when they came up for air, he licked his lips and smiled. "You're right, that was delicious cheesecake."

She stared at him in disbelief. "Who are you, and what have you done with Adrian Monk?"

He shrugged. "I don't mind _your_ germs. Or your other bodily fluids, for that matter. I'd think that's obvious, considering how we – "

"Okay, I get it," she said, cutting him off. She shook her head as she cleaned up her dessert dishes. "There are a lot of things that are going to take getting used to."

She'd barely closed the dishwasher when he swept her up in his arms. She squealed in surprise, grabbing for his neck. "What are you doing?"

"It's bedtime." He maneuvered them carefully through the doorway and down the hall.

"I'm not tired," she protested as he carried her into the bedroom.

He grinned devilishly. "I didn't say anything about sleeping."

She laughed as he lowered her onto the bed.


	4. Chapter 4

****ring****

****ring*****

****ring*****

****ring*****

Natalie groaned and emerged from the covers, groping on the nightstand for her ringing cell phone. She was grateful that she'd remembered to retrieve it from her robe pocket and toss it onto the nightstand at some point last night.

"H'lo?" she said sleepily, not bothering to check the display.

"Natalie, it's Randy."

"Wha time izzit?" she mumbled.

"Six a.m."

"Oh, God," she groaned, burrowing her head into the pillow.

She and Adrian had made love for _hours_ the night before. He'd been determined to make their second time together slow and tender, since their first time had been so fast and frantic. They'd finally exhausted themselves and fallen into a satiated slumber sometime after midnight — and even so, he'd woken her up and made love to her _again_ shortly before four a.m. She hadn't had such an incredible night since Mitch had been alive, but as a consequence she'd gotten very little sleep.

"I'm sorry for the early wake up call," Randy apologized, "but we have a body down by the pier and we need Monk to take a look."

"What's going on?" Adrian mumbled blearily from the pillow beside hers.

"We have a case," she told him, then returned to the phone. "Where should we meet you?"

There was a long silence on the phone. "Hello?" Natalie said, thinking they might have gotten disconnected.

"I'm here," Disher said. "Uh… was that Monk just now?"

"Yes."

More silence. "I take it the dinner went well?" His tone was one of amusement.

She huffed out an exasperated breath. "Where should we meet you, Randy?"

He gave her directions. She disconnected the call and tossed the phone back on the table.

"Sometimes I really hate this job," she muttered, feeling as though she could sleep for another day or two.

"You and me both," Adrian said, stretching and yawning mightily.

"Did you tell the captain or Randy that you were planning to propose?" she asked curiously.

Adrian looked over at her, puzzled. "I told them about the dinner, but not the proposal. Given what happened with Leland's proposal to T.K., I didn't want to risk either of them accidentally saying something to you. Why?"

"Just wondering." She rolled her eyes. "Randy asked if the dinner went well when he heard your voice."

"Ah." He turned over and took her into his arms, kissing her neck. "It's a shame he called. I'd much rather stay in bed today."

"Three times last night wasn't enough for you?" she asked, feeling his erection brushing her thigh.

"No," he said, moving his hand to cup her breast. "I have twelve years of abstinence to make up for."

"You don't have to do it all in one night, you know," she teased.

He grinned at her. "I'd sure like to try," he said, running his hand lightly down her stomach. "Besides, it's partly your fault. You're entirely too appealing."

Natalie moaned with regret. "We really need to go. Duty calls."

He sighed, kissing her lips briefly. "All right. Who gets the first shower?"

"I'll go. I'm faster." She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. When she stood up, the jolt of pain made her yelp in surprise and hunch forward.

"Are you all right?" Adrian asked in alarm, scrambling over the bed to her.

She sat back down, wincing. "I'm fine. Just sore. Ow." She rubbed her thigh.

"Was I too rough?" Adrian was horrified that he'd inadvertently hurt her. Their last two bouts of lovemaking had been slow and gentle, but he'd practiced no restraint at all their first time together. "I'm so sorry, Natalie, I didn't mean to — "

"It's okay," she reassured him. "I'm… out of practice. Three times in one night was probably overdoing it a little."

"Is there anything I can do?" he asked anxiously.

She shook her head. "I'm going to take a really hot shower and some Motrin. That should take the edge off, at least."

She pushed off the bed, more carefully this time, and hobbled to the shower.

* * *

The wind was whipping fiercely over the bay as Natalie and Adrian made their way to the cordon of crime-scene tape and police officers. Natalie was glad she'd brought her warmest coat, as well as her gloves and scarf; it was a gray, drizzly day and the wind was brisk. She was doubly glad she'd had spare clothes at Adrian's; the little red dress was not something she'd want to wear to a chilly outdoor crime scene.

Stottlemeyer hailed them over. "Sorry to get you out here so early," he apologized, "but we're hoping you'll give us more to go on, because right now we don't have much."

Adrian ducked under the crime scene tape to examine the body.

The male corpse had a massive head wound and waterlogged clothes. Adrian examined him carefully. "Has the medical examiner determined cause of death?" he asked.

"He won't know until he can get him into autopsy," Stottlemeyer answered. "He doesn't think the head wound was bad enough to cause death instantly, so we're not sure if he got dead before or after he hit the water."

Adrian nodded absently, circling the body with his hands extended. He knelt down and sniffed at the man's shirt. "Hmmm," he muttered.

"The body washed up on shore sometime early this morning," Randy said. "It was discovered by a marina security guard who was on his way to work. M.E. estimates time of death between one and three a.m. He wasn't in the water very long."

"It'd help if we could figure out the murder weapon," Stottlemeyer said, sipping from a steaming take-out cup of coffee. "The M.E. says a large, solid object, maybe cylindrical, but he's not sure."

"A scuba tank?" Natalie suggested.

The three men looked at her in surprise. "That's… a definite possibility," Stottlemeyer said, nodding. "Good thinking, Natalie."

"A very good guess," Adrian said, still crouched by the body. "But not quite accurate. The murder weapon was a fire extinguisher." He pointed at the head wound. "Fire extinguishers are cylindrical, but they have flat bottoms so they can stand alone and upright if needed. You can almost make out the shape of the rounded bottom edge of the canister, here."

Stottlemeyer squinted at the wound. "Yeah… I see what you mean."

"Also, smell his clothes," Adrian continued. "Even though they've been soaked in sea water, they still smell like fire retardant. I'd guess that he works at a facility where fire retardant is manufactured or used frequently, and the smell has worked its way into the fabric of his clothes."

Stottlemeyer leaned over, sniffed, and smiled. "Excellent deduction, Monk. Anything else?"

Adrian was studying something on the man's hand. "His hand is bruised," he pointed out. "Defensive wound?" He held his hand, palm out, over his head and pretended to block a blow, then nodded. "Yes, I think so." He stood and reached out to Natalie for a wipe. "That's all I see, for now."

"Randy!" Stottlemeyer called. "Tell the M.E. they can transport the body."

He and Adrian ducked back under the crime scene tape as the medical examiner's crew moved in.

"That's a lot more to go on than we had before, so thanks." Stottlemeyer leaned in and lowered his voice. "Sorry again to drag you out here. I know you had, uh, special plans last night."

Adrian shrugged. "The life of a cop. Or, in this case, former cop."

"It went well?" Stottlemeyer probed, glancing over at Natalie, who was chatting with Randy.

" _Very_ well."

Stottlemeyer's eyebrows shot up at the sight of his friend's self-satisfied smirk. The man was fairly strutting. "Good for you, buddy."

"Randy says we have a check waiting at the station," Natalie told Adrian as he and the captain approached.

"Always good news," Adrian said. "We might as well stop by and get it now."

"That's what I thought, too," she agreed.

"Great, you can follow us in," Stottlemeyer said, and they headed off to their separate cars.

Back at the station house, they followed the captain and Randy into the crowded, bustling squad room. There was a hum of activity already even though it was still shy of eight a.m. "The check's at my desk," Disher told them.

"Oh, I still need a copy for my files," Stottlemeyer remembered, following them to his partner's workstation.

The squad room felt stifling after being outside in the chilly air for so long. Natalie unwound her scarf and stripped off her gloves, stuffing them in her coat pocket as Randy shuffled through the files on his desk. She absently tucked some of her hair behind one ear; with so little time to get ready this morning, she'd only pulled it back into a messy ponytail and strands were escaping everywhere.

"Hey, what's that?" Stottlemeyer said abruptly.

Natalie looked up quickly at his sharp tone, which had the effect of quieting most of the squad room. The captain was staring straight at her, his eyes narrowed, making her the center of attention. Randy froze, glancing between the two of them uncertainly. Adrian looked equally baffled. She glanced behind her but saw nothing out of the ordinary.

"What?" she asked Stottlemeyer, bewildered.

" _That_ ," he said, taking a step toward her and pointing. "On your finger."

She glanced down at her hands, still confused, and realized he was talking about her new, and very sparkly, ring. She had completely forgotten she was wearing it.

She shot a look toward Adrian. He shrugged imperceptibly and raised his eyebrows slightly, as if to say, _We might as well tell them._

He was right, of course. There was no reason to prevaricate, now that Stottlemeyer's keen eyes had noticed her new piece of jewelry and called the entire squad room's attention to it.

"That's… my engagement ring," Natalie admitted, ducking her head and smiling shyly.

In the moment of shocked silence that followed, Adrian slid his arm around her waist and beamed proudly at his friends.

"Son of a gun," Stottlemeyer said under his breath. Then his mustached face broke into a huge, delighted grin. He whacked Adrian on the back with such force that the former detective stumbled forward and nearly tripped headlong over Randy's desk. "Congratulations!" he all but roared.

The next minute, he had grabbed Adrian's hand and was pumping it enthusiastically. "Hey, everybody! Monk and Natalie are getting _married_!"

The squad room broke out into cheers and raucous applause. Natalie's cheeks glowed crimson as detectives and officers alike surged forward to shake her hand or admire her ring. Adrian, to his private horror, was shaking hands left, right, and center, and was the recipient of several additional hearty backslaps.

Randy was grinning ear-to-ear. "This is great news! Does Sharona know?" he asked. Natalie shook her head.

Stottlemeyer distracted her by pulling her into an enthusiastic bear hug. "God, I'm happy for you two. Monk, I'm gonna throw you a bachelor party like you've never seen!"

"Leland, I really don't — " Adrian tried, but was ignored.

"Hang on, I gotta call T.K., she's going to be so excited!" Stottlemeyer disappeared into his office.

"Hey, guys, come here!" Randy punched the speaker button on his cell phone. "Sharona, Monk and Natalie are engaged!"

"OH MY GOD!" The shriek was amazingly loud and high-pitched for such a tiny speaker.

Natalie snatched the phone, turned off the speaker, and handed it to her new fiancé. She liked Sharona, but even so, she didn't want the entire squad room privy to her exuberant congratulations and no doubt incessant questions.

And Sharona did not disappoint. "Hi, Sharona, it's Adrian," he said, holding the phone a few inches from his ear and wincing as his former assistant shrieked again. "Yes, it's true…. last night… of course I gave her a ring….yes, we'll send you pictures… no, not yet… for heaven's sake, Sharona, it hasn't even been twelve hours, we haven't made any plans… I will… yes, I will… I _promise_. Okay. Thanks." He gave the phone back to Randy.

"She's, uh, very excited for us," he told Natalie dryly. "She made me promise you'd e-mail her pictures of your ring. And she wants you to call her later."

Stottlemeyer came back in. "T.K. wants to have you guys over for dinner tonight to celebrate! What do you say?"

"Um…" Natalie's thoughts were whirling. She looked at Adrian, who looked uneasy but shrugged noncommittally. "Sure, I guess so."

"Great!" the captain beamed. "She'll have dinner ready at seven but she said you could come earlier if you wanted. Oh, and bring Julie too, if she's free." He disappeared back into his office.

"Uh, Randy, could we get that check?" Natalie asked, more than a little desperate to get away from all the commotion.

"Oh, yeah, sure!" he said, grabbing a file from the top of a stack. Adrian initialed the papers quickly as Natalie tucked the check into her purse, and they made their way to the door, stopping as little as possible.

"Could I have a wipe?" Adrian asked the moment they were out of the squad room.

"Of course," Natalie said, digging one out for him. She was amazed that he hadn't asked for one earlier. He must have shaken hands with two dozen cops already.

He wiped his hands thoroughly and heaved a sigh, tossing the wipe into a nearby trash can. "I'm glad that's over."

"Me too," she agreed uneasily. "I hadn't anticipated that our news would be announced so… publicly." Natalie sighed. "I say we go back to your place for some peace and quiet."

"Actually…" he hesitated. "Now that the news is out, maybe we should tell Ambrose? I suppose I could call, but…"

"You should tell him in person," Natalie said, understanding. "He's your brother."

"At least it'll be quiet at his house," Adrian pointed out.

And it was. As usual, Ambrose Monk's crowded, cluttered house was as silent as a tomb when he opened the door to them. "This is a pleasant surprise," he beamed, ushering them inside.

"Sorry it's so early," Natalie apologized. "We were at a crime scene this morning and we just decided to stop by."

"Not at all, I'm delighted to have company. Do you want coffee? Something to eat? I just made muffins."

Adrian's smile was a bit strained. "Sounds great."

They made small talk for a while, sipping and chatting, with Adrian wondering how to bring up the subject they'd come to discuss. He wasn't entirely sure how his brother would take the news. He knew at one time Ambrose had harbored romantic feelings for Natalie, but that the two had decided to remain friends.

He remembered vehemently protesting to Ambrose at one point that there was nothing even remotely romantic about his feelings about Natalie, and his brother's answering skeptical expression. Perhaps Ambrose had known more about Adrian's feelings than Adrian himself had.

He had visited Ambrose shortly after the New Year to tell him about the resolution of Trudy's case, and he had mentioned at that time that he and Natalie had become romantically involved, but he wasn't entirely sure his brother had taken him seriously. This made him wonder, again, how to bring up the news they had to share.

Ambrose, however, beat him to it.

"Natalie, that's a very lovely ring," he commented. "Is it new?"

She glanced at Adrian. "It is," she said tentatively. "Adrian gave it to me on Valentine's Day." She was reluctant to say anything more, as she thought Adrian might want to be the one to tell him the news.

"I'm impressed!" Ambrose chuckled. "Adrian, I didn't realize you had such superb taste in jewelry. Of course, I should have known, judging by the necklace you gave her at Christmas."

Adrian cleared his throat. "Uh, Ambrose… about her ring… it's actually an engagement ring."

Ambrose looked from Adrian to Natalie, then back again, as if he expected one of them to start laughing and admit it was just a practical joke. When they didn't, he sat back in his chair, apparently dumbfounded. "You're getting married?"

Natalie and Adrian nodded in unison.

"Well, this is unexpected," Ambrose said, blinking rapidly. "I… I didn't realize things were quite so… serious."

"You're one of the first to know," Natalie said, looking a little worried. "We wanted to tell you right away."

"My sincerest felicitations," Ambrose said, sounding dazed. Then he smiled broadly, and took Natalie's hand. "I'll be very delighted to have you as my new sister-in-law."

Her heart melted. "And I'll be so glad to have you as my brother-in-law," she said, embracing him. "Not just me, you know – Julie will be your step-niece. You'll be Uncle Ambrose."

"Well, that's a title I never expected to have," he said, flushing pink. "I shall endeavor to be the finest of uncles."

He looked over at his brother, then, and reached out to shake his hand. "Congratulations, Adrian," he said earnestly. "I'm really very happy for you."

"Thank you, Ambrose," Adrian said, and meant it.

"I look forward to seeing the video of the wedding," Ambrose said cheerfully, rising to clear his empty dishes.

"The video?" Natalie said. "You won't need a video; you'll be _there_!" She laughed, but neither man laughed with her.

Ambrose shook his head, scraping crumbs into the sink. "I'm not sure if I can manage that, Natalie. All those people…" he trailed off.

"You were at Adrian's wedding to Trudy, weren't you?" Natalie asked uncertainly, looking between the two brothers.

Adrian shook his head, staring at the table and deliberately _not_ looking at his brother. Truth be told, even though he understood the reality of his brother's illness, he was still a little hurt that Ambrose hadn't been able to come to his first wedding.

"Ambrose, if you can manage to come to my house for Christmas, I think you could make it to the wedding," she cajoled.

"No, I really don't think…" Ambrose said, looking desperately uncomfortable.

Adrian sighed, exasperated. "It's no use, Natalie. Trudy and I spent hours trying to persuade him last time."

Natalie folded her arms. "Well, I intend to keep trying."

"I'll think about it, okay?" Ambrose offered timidly.

"Fair enough." Natalie smiled, but her eyes were glinting with determination. "We'll talk about it again sometime soon."


	5. Chapter 5

Adrian was silent in the car on the way back to his place. Natalie let him brood, well aware he'd eventually bring up what was bothering him — and she could guess what it was.

They were back in his apartment before he finally spoke to her. "I wish you wouldn't try to talk him into it," he said gloomily, dropping down into his chair.

"Why not? You don't want him there?" she challenged.

"Of course I do," Adrian protested. "It's just that I don't want you to be disappointed when he doesn't show up."

"He came for Christmas," she said stubbornly. "That took a lot of persuading too, but I managed."

"Christmas was just the four of us," he pointed out. "A wedding will have innumerable people there that he doesn't know."

"Weddings are important for families," she maintained. "If my family is going to be there, then yours…" She trailed off, her cheeks going pale.

He sat up straight at the look of horror on her face. "Natalie, what's wrong?" he asked sharply, ready to spring from his chair.

She closed her eyes. "I just realized I'll have to tell my mother that we're engaged."

"And that's bad because…?" he prompted.

She opened her eyes and twisted her fingers together. "Well… the thing is…" She bit her lip and shrugged apologetically. "I… kind of never told her that we were together in the first place."

"Natalie!" Adrian sat back, genuinely shocked. "Why not?"

"Because _,_ " she said, throwing her hands in the air. "She gave me _so_ much grief for dating and marrying Mitch that we were virtually estranged for _years_. We're finally in a good place again and I didn't want to… you know… rock the boat. And I never expected to get engaged, so…"

"You didn't think we'd ever go _visit_ at some point?" he said, exasperated.

"I guess I thought we'd cross that bridge when we came to it," she admitted.

"Has Julie told her anything?"

She opened her mouth, and then shut it again, feeling foolish. "I don't know. I hadn't thought of that. I assume not since I haven't heard a scream of outrage come from the direction of Pebble Beach lately, or gotten any nasty phone calls."

He massaged his temples. "Surely it won't be _that_ bad. I thought your mother liked me."

Natalie considered. "She probably does. At least, she doesn't actively dislike you, which is almost the same thing. But there's no way in hell she'll want me to marry you."

"Why not?" Adrian asked, indignant.

"Because, to her, a fiancé isn't 'suitable' unless he has a blue-blooded pedigree and a bank account to match," Natalie said darkly, flopping down on the couch. "That's why she was so opposed to my marriage to Mitch. He wasn't good enough for me in her eyes."

"Maybe her attitude has changed, especially considering what happened with your brother," Adrian suggested.

Natalie shook her head. "She wanted me to get together with Paul Buchanan a few years ago, remember?" She shuddered at the memory of the man who was now spending life in prison for the cold-blooded murders of his stepmother and his butler.

"Well…" Adrian searched for something comforting to say, but could come up with nothing. "Let's start with calling Julie so we can see if she's said anything to her grandmother. Then we can go from there, all right?"

Natalie blew out a breath. "Right. Okay." She dug her cellphone out of her purse and hit Julie's speed-dial number.

"Hi, hon," Natalie said when Julie answered.

"Mom! Hi! Oh my gosh, congrats, Mrs. Monk-to-be! Were you surprised?" Julie bubbled.

" _Very_ surprised," Natalie said with a smile.

"Did the dining room knock your socks off?"

"It did," she laughed.

"Do you like your ring?"

"It's gorgeous. I love it." Natalie admired it again as she spoke. "I hear you helped pick it out."

"It was _so_ much fun. There were dozens of really beautiful rings there, but that one just seemed like it had your name on it. Mr. Faddis thought so too. He's so sweet."

"Yes, he is," Natalie agreed. "Listen, Julie, I was wondering… have you said anything to your grandparents about Adrian and me lately? Say, since New Year's?"

"No, but they've been on their cruise so I haven't talked to them much."

"Their cruise?"

"Yeah, they went on a big Caribbean cruise in mid-January. I think they got back last week, but I've been so busy at school that I keep forgetting to call." Julie paused. "Have you told them yet?"

"About our engagement? No."

"Have you even told them that you're involved with Mr. Monk?"

Natalie winced. "Um… not really."

" _Mom_." Julie's exasperated tone was oddly similar to Adrian's. She'd never noticed that before.

"I know, I know. But you know how your grandmother can be."

"She might freak out initially, but she'll come around."

"Maybe." Natalie wasn't convinced.

Julie sighed. "Just call and get it over with. The sooner she knows, the sooner she can start dealing with it."

"You're probably right," Natalie admitted.

"Of course I am," Julie said cheerfully. "Hey, are you still at Mr. Monk's place?"

"Yes."

"Can I talk to him?"

"Sure." She handed the phone over to Adrian, saying, "She wants to talk to you."

He accepted the phone and said, "Hi, Julie."

"I told you she'd love the ring."

"You were right," he said. "She liked my clothes, too."

"Didn't I tell you she would?"

He smiled at her smug tone. "Well, thank you."

" _And_ I told you that you'd thank me later, which you are now doing."

"You've made your point, Julie," Adrian said dryly.

"I know, I just wanted to rub it in," she said cheerfully. "Listen, if Grandma freaks when you tell her, don't let it get you down. She'll come around eventually."

"I'll keep that in mind." He noticed Natalie motioning for the phone. "Your mom wants to talk to you again."

"Okay. Take care, future stepdad!" she said brightly. Adrian handed over the phone, still a bit flustered at being called "stepdad."

"Hey, Julie?" Natalie said to her daughter. "The Stottlemeyers invited all of us over for dinner tonight to celebrate. Are you free?"

"Um… sure, as long as it's not a late night. I have an English test in the morning."

"No, I don't think it will be; both the captain and T.K. have work tomorrow. Dinner's at seven so we'll pick you up at the dorm at six, okay?"

"See you then. Love you, bye!"

"Love you too," Natalie said, but her daughter had already hung up.

"So, do you think she's excited?" Adrian asked with a straight face.

Natalie laughed. "Maybe just a little."

She heaved a sigh, staring at the phone in her hand, and then shrugged. "Well, once more into the breach," she said, and dialed her mother's number.

To her dismay, the butler informed her that although her father was out playing golf, her mother was indeed at home, and he'd transfer the call to the terrace, where she was enjoying her morning coffee. Natalie had hoped her mother would be out, giving her a good excuse to avoid the conversation until later.

"Hello, Mother," Natalie said tentatively when Peggy Davenport came on the line.

"Natalie, darling, how are you? I haven't heard from you in _months_!"

"How was your cruise?" Natalie asked, ignoring the subtle rebuke. True, the last time she'd talked to her parents was around Christmas, but the phone did work both ways.

"Oh, it was marvelous. We had a wonderful time. We went with the Pennyworths; you remember them, don't you? I think you knew their daughter in high school."

"Um, I think so. Allison, right?" she said, remembering Allison Pennyworth as an entitled snob two grades above her who wouldn't give Natalie the time of day.

"That's right! You know, their older son Aaron was just divorced again; we should arrange for you to meet him. Maybe the fourth time will be the charm."

Natalie rubbed her forehead. "No, I don't think so."

"Why not? He's newly single, you're _very_ single. And more importantly, he's _rich_."

"Well, the thing is… that's why I called." Natalie closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I'm kind of seeing someone."

She cracked her eyes open to see Adrian nodding at her encouragingly.

"You are?" Her mother's tone sharpened with interest. "Is it serious?"

"As a matter of fact, it is."

"Have we met him before?"

"Yes, you have."

"Not that Navy fellow on the submarine?"

"Steven? No, not him."

"Oh, good. The last thing you need is another man who's going to virtually abandon his family by gallivanting overseas for months on end."

Natalie counted to five, trying to keep her temper contained.

"Is it that police officer?" her mother continued. "The one who was hurt at Jonathan's wedding? He was a smart fellow and he obviously liked you quite a bit."

"Randy and I are just friends, Mom." She rolled her eyes. "Besides, he's involved with someone else right now."

"Well, for heaven's sakes, who is it, Natalie?"

"Mom… it's Mr. Monk. Adrian Monk," she corrected quickly.

There was a full five seconds of silence. Then, "I'm sorry, dear, could you repeat that? I think we have a poor connection."

Natalie braced herself. "I said, Adrian Monk."

He mother spoke sharply. "That isn't funny, Natalie Jane. It's a joke in very poor taste."

"I'm not joking, Mom."

"But… he's your _boss_!"

"I know."

"And… and… for heaven's sake, Natalie, he's… he's crazy! He has a _condition_! Good heavens, what are you _thinking_? Have you taken total leave of your senses?" Her mother was shrieking now.

Natalie massaged her forehead as Adrian, who looked very concerned, moved to sit beside her.

"I'm thinking that I love him," Natalie said shakily, on the verge of tears. Her mother's fury always caused her defenses to crumble.

"You simply cannot be serious, Natalie. You… you need a vacation. Or an institution. Or _something_!"

Adrian couldn't stand the stricken look on Natalie's face anymore. He plucked the phone out of her hand and held it to his own ear. "Mrs. Davenport, this is Adrian Monk," he said firmly.

"Listen, you lunatic, I don't know what you've done to my daughter, but you leave her alone, is that clear?" Peggy Davenport blasted furiously.

"I happen to be in love with her." Adrian patted Natalie's knee comfortingly. "In fact, I asked her to marry me last night, and she said yes."

"WHAT?" Her screech was nearly apoplectic. "Look here, if you think to marry her because you're waiting for an inheritance, you're wasting your time. She won't get a nickel."

Natalie, who could clearly hear her mother's ravings, winced at that and buried her face in her hands.

"Furthermore, I intend to press charges against you for clearly hoodwinking an innocent woman into your… your strange delusions. Do I make myself clear?"

Adrian was speechless for several moments. "I'm going to hang up now," he said carefully. "Goodbye, Mrs. Davenport." He punched the "END" button and stared at the cellphone in disbelief.

"I was wrong," he said hollowly. "It was that bad."

Beside him, Natalie started sobbing, and his heart nearly broke in two. He tossed the cell phone onto the coffee table and gathered her into his arms.

"It's just what happened with Mitch all over again," she wept. "I'm so sorry she said those things about you."

"It's all right, sweetheart," he soothed. "We'll just… give her some time to cool down."

"She took four years to cool down last time," she gulped.

"Maybe this time it'll only take her two," he joked, trying to cheer her up.

It didn't work.

He sighed and leaned back on the couch, holding her close as she cried. He rubbed her back as her tears tapered off, searching his brain for comforting words but coming up empty. Finally, he had an idea. Maybe a change of subject would take her mind off things. "Hey, you know what being on this couch with you reminds me of?" he asked.

"What?" she said, wiping her eyes with a tissue.

"The first time I tried to kiss you." He smiled affectionately at the memory, rubbing her arm and resting his cheek on her head.

"After we'd fallen asleep on the couch watching movies," she said, sniffling.

"That's right. And if Leland hadn't called at just the wrong moment, who knows what might have happened?"

"Why didn't you try to kiss me again?" she asked curiously.

He shrugged. "I couldn't work up the courage. Of course, I didn't realize we'd end up sleeping together later that night," he teased.

She giggled, just as he'd hoped she would. "The way you act now, I'm surprised we were able to share a bed and have nothing happen."

"Well… I wouldn't say _nothing_ happened," he said, deadpan.

Her eyes widened. "What do you mean?"

"Only that I woke up before you did that morning, all snuggled up next to you, and discovered that I was _very_ aroused," he murmured in her ear.

Her cheeks pinked. She couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if she'd woken up first and felt his arousal. "You were?"

"Mmhmm. And later on, when you were in the shower, I couldn't stop thinking about you in there." He played with her hair. "It was the first time in twelve years that I'd felt desire like that."

She smiled, and his heart leaped. "I remember having some pretty graphic thoughts myself, while I was driving home."

"Really?" He couldn't say why that pleased him so much. "Do tell."

"I was thinking that your shower was so much nicer than mine, and that it was large enough for two people," she admitted. "And then I wondered what it would be like to… you know. Share it with you."

"We'll have to try that sometime," he said, feeling aroused by thought. _Down, boy,_ he scolded himself, remembering her soreness that morning. _She needs time to recover._

"Did you ever — " she began, but cut herself off. "Never mind."

"Were you about to ask if Trudy and I ever showered together?" he said calmly.

"It's none of my business," she said, blushing. She'd been honest when she'd told him that she didn't mind when he talked about Trudy, but that didn't mean she expected him to share every intimate detail of their lives together.

"You can ask me anything you want," he told her, rubbing the palm of her hand with his thumb. "And to answer your question, yes, we did. Fairly often, actually." He grinned. "It _is_ a nice shower."

She laughed, and the sound was balm to his soul. "Feeling better now?" he asked gently.

Natalie sighed. "Yes, I am."

"Good." He studied her face critically. She still looked worn out. "What do you say we take a nap? We didn't get much sleep last night."

She smiled tiredly. "That sounds nice." She gave him a look of mock consternation. "But don't get any _other_ ideas. I don't think I'll be able to walk tonight if you do."

He raised his hands in surrender. "No monkey business, I promise."

Laughing together, they disappeared into his bedroom.


	6. Chapter 6

Several hours later, feeling much more refreshed, they reheated the previous night's leftovers for lunch. Natalie thought the chicken was even better the second day.

The phone rang as they were finishing, and Adrian picked it up. "Hello?"

"Adrian Monk, please," an unfamiliar female voice said.

"Speaking."

"Mr. Monk, this is Susanne Campana at the _San Francisco Dispatch_."

He stiffened. "Yes?" he said guardedly. He recognized the name – for the last several years, whenever an article about him or one of his cases appeared in the _Dispatch_ , she had been the author. Perhaps she was writing a story about the body that had washed up on shore this morning, and wanted a comment. She wouldn't get one; he rarely, if ever, commented to the press regarding an ongoing investigation.

"Rumor has it that you've recently become engaged to your assistant, Natalie Teeger. Is that true?"

He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "No comment."

"Have you — "

Adrian sighed. He didn't like being rude to reporters, given Trudy's profession, but neither did he want his personal life splashed all over the newspapers. "Ms. Campana, whatever you ask me, I can promise that the answer is going to be 'no comment'."

"Can you at least confirm or deny?" she pressed.

"No comment," he said again, firmly, and hung up the phone.

"Was that a reporter?" Natalie asked.

"Yes," he admitted reluctantly. "From the _Dispatch_."

"About the case from this morning?"

"No." He sighed, giving her an apologetic glance. "About us."

"Us?" She looked blank for a second. "You mean… about us being engaged?"

He nodded.

She was completely flummoxed. "Why would they care?"

"I'm a semi-public figure," he shrugged. "Must be a slow news day."

"How did they know?" Natalie said, still baffled. "It hasn't even been twenty-four hours yet."

"She probably has a source at the police department," Adrian mused. "I'm sure the news spread through there like wildfire this morning."

Natalie slumped against her chair. "It's not that I want this to be a secret," she said, "it's just…" She trailed off.

"…you wanted us to announce it ourselves, in our own way?" he finished, understanding perfectly.

"Yeah." She tunneled her hands through her hair. "I can't believe I forgot I was wearing my ring this morning. I wouldn't have taken off my gloves if I'd remembered."

"Well, in your defense, you were pretty tired," he pointed out.

"And whose fault is that?" she smirked.

He grinned. "Guilty as charged."

Her smile faded. "It's going to be a media circus when the news about Wally Dougal breaks, isn't it?" Given what had happened to the last witness set to testify against Biederbeck, a judge had issued a gag order pertaining to all aspects of Dougal's case, and the district attorney's office was keeping his involvement highly confidential. All the police had said about his attack on Natalie was that it had been a B&E gone wrong, which hadn't gotten much media play.

"Probably," Adrian said soberly. "It'll be a sensational story, what with Trudy's case being solved and Biederbeck's involvement. Add the angle about Trudy and Mitch working together, and you unknowingly becoming my assistant after the fact… and the news that we're getting married… the media will have a field day."

"I guess I better get used to it," she said, resigned.

"Do you want to elope?"

She stared at him. He certainly _looked_ serious. "Excuse me?"

"It'd help the news blow over more quickly. We could just go to the courthouse, or even Las Vegas if you want, and get it over with."

She laughed humorlessly. "You make it sound like dental work."

He winced and sat down at the table next to her, taking her hand in his. "I didn't mean it to sound that way," he said quietly. "I'm sorry. I just meant that with everything that's happened so far… Ambrose, and your mother… and what might happen with eventual media attention, it might be easier and less stressful just to get married quickly and quietly, with no fuss."

"You have a point," she admitted.

"But?" he prompted, hearing the reluctance in her voice.

"You know that Mitch and I eloped?" she asked after a minute or two of silence.

He nodded. "Because of your parents' opposition."

"Yeah." She sighed. "Don't get me wrong," she continued quickly, "I don't regret marrying him that way for an instant. We didn't have money for a wedding anyway. He was just starting out in the Navy, and I'd dropped out of college and was working odd jobs. It seemed like the best thing to do. But…" She gazed at their joined hands, her expression turning wistful. "I guess I'd sort of started thinking that this time, maybe, I could have a _real_ wedding. A white dress, bridesmaids, pictures, a reception or a dance… all the things I didn't have the first time around."

As someone who'd already had a big wedding, he was far more inclined to go the quick and quiet route, but he understood her longing. He remembered Trudy had been in her element planning their wedding. She'd even shown him scrapbooks with magazine and newspaper clippings of wedding ideas she'd been saving since she was a teenager. He could hear the yearning in Natalie's voice, and guessed that she might have similar scrapbooks hidden in her childhood bedroom.

"If that's what you want, then that's what we'll do," he said determinedly.

She stared at him, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. "Really?"

"Really." He wasn't entirely sure how they'd _pay_ for it, but he decided to leave that discussion for another time. To lighten the mood, he said, "In fact, I happen to know a young lady who is really good at helping to plan fancy events."

Natalie brightened, looking happier than she had all day. He inwardly resolved to give her the wedding of her dreams, if it would keep that smile on her face.

She kissed him, and when they drew apart she looked down at her ring. "This is my first engagement ring, you know," she confessed shyly.

"What?" he said, genuinely taken aback.

"We were so poor… I told Mitch not to bother, that I'd rather spend our money on plane tickets for our honeymoon. He said he'd buy me one for our tenth anniversary instead." She smiled sadly. Their tenth anniversary had never come. "I had a wedding ring, of course, but it was a plain gold band," she continued absently, watching her engagement ring sparkle in the light. "I was thinking of having it made into a necklace or something for Julie."

She looked up at him then, and saw that he had tears in his eyes. It was such a rare sight that she become instantly concerned. "Adrian, are you okay?"

He was so deeply moved by her revelation that that he couldn't speak at first. "It's just…" he finally managed, his voice gravelly with emotion, "I'm so very honored to have given you your first engagement ring."

Her worried expression softened. "You truly are a romantic, you know that?" She reached up and touched his cheek. "I bet you pulled out all the stops for Trudy when you proposed to her."

"Oh yeah," he said, smiling over the memory. "I wanted to ask her in the library at Berkeley, where we first met, but there'd been some sort of water leak, and it was shut down for a few weeks."

"That's unfortunate," Natalie sympathized. "What'd you do instead?"

"I asked her at that bench in the Berkeley quad, the one where I'd told her I loved her for the first time." He gave Natalie a bashful grin. "It's also where I took Julie Teeger to ask permission to marry her mom."

"Oh, Adrian," Natalie said softly, remembering that bench very well. "Did you get down on one knee with Trudy, too?"

"Of course," he said, and then grimaced. "The ground was wet because it'd been raining earlier in the day, and my knee got soaked."

"I bet you didn't care at all after she said yes," Natalie said knowingly.

"Not a bit," he confirmed, grinning. "We had dinner with her parents afterward, to celebrate — they were in town for business. I was over the moon. We all were." He realized that for the first time in a long time, memories of Trudy were sweet instead of bittersweet. He could think of her and their life together with happiness instead of misery. That was one of the many gifts Natalie had given him.

"How about you?" he asked, squeezing her hand. "Did Mitch get down on one knee even though he didn't have a ring?"

"No," she said, and, although it seemed faintly disloyal to Mitch's memory, she was absurdly pleased to have received such a proposal from Adrian. "We were in his car, parked outside the base housing where he was living at the time. He asked me, and I said yes." She let her eyes twinkle at him. "I didn't almost faint from shock before saying yes to him, though."

"That's good, for his sake. I thought I'd given you food poisoning or something, at first," he admitted. "It was a very scary few minutes."

"But with a happy ending," she reminded him.

He kissed her hand, right above her ring. "A very happy ending."


	7. Chapter 7

Natalie had scarcely entered the Stottlemeyers' house when T.K. pounced on her. "Let me see, let me see!" she squealed, grabbing for Natalie's hand. She gasped and then sighed. "All Leland could tell me was that it was 'silvery and real sparkly.' Oh, it's just gorgeous!" She suddenly turned and hugged Adrian, who stiffened in surprise. "Well done!"

"Thanks," Natalie said, laughing at T.K.'s exuberance.

"I helped pick it out," Julie said proudly, removing her coat.

"You did? That's so sweet," T.K. said, her hand on her heart and her eyes glistening. "Oh, you have no idea how happy this makes me. I've been on cloud nine all day."

"You'd think it was her own engagement," Leland Stottlemeyer said, his eyes twinkling, as he came into the foyer, taking their coats from them. "Are you serving dinner out here, honey, or should we let them into the rest of the house?"

T.K. elbowed him playfully. "Go on in," she told her guests. "Dinner will be ready in a few minutes. Leland, once you've put those in the guest room, make yourself useful and open the wine."

"Yes, dear," he said dutifully, as Julie giggled at the byplay.

T.K. had gone all out, preparing luscious pork tenderloin, roasted asparagus spears, baked potatoes, and stuffed mushrooms, with bread pudding for dessert.

"I think between this dinner and the one I had last night, I'm going to gain about twenty pounds," Natalie said in mock protest. She pointed her fork at Adrian. "I blame you and T.K. if I can't fit into any of my clothes tomorrow."

"I know a good way to burn calories," Adrian said, his mouth twitching.

Natalie's face turned red, and she quickly took a gulp of wine.

Julie, who had just taken a bite of pork, started choking. "Dear God, not at the table!" she sputtered, taking a drink of water. Natalie thumped her on the back as she coughed.

Leland and T.K. stared at each other, wide-eyed, striving to conceal their astonishment. Had _Adrian Monk_ , of all people, just made a thinly-veiled sex joke?

"Captain Stottlemeyer, can't you arrest him for lewd behavior or something?" Julie complained.

"I'll let him off with a warning this time," Leland said, raising his eyebrows at Adrian. His old friend shrugged apologetically but winked at Natalie, who snorted into her wineglass, hiding a smile.

"Okay, now that you're here, I want details," T.K. demanded. "Start to finish. Where did you buy her ring, Adrian?"

He told the story, starting with showing up at Julie's dorm on the first day of February and asking her permission, and then taking her with him as he went ring shopping. T.K. had to wipe her eyes several times, and even Leland sniffed suspiciously a time or two.

"… so I got down on one knee, and asked her to marry me," Adrian continued. "And then… she fainted."

"I did not faint," Natalie corrected. "I _almost_ fainted."

"I had to catch you."

"But I stayed conscious."

"Barely."

"I didn't hear this part of the story," Julie said, fascinated. "Why did you faint?"

"I _almost_ fainted," Natalie corrected again. "And the reason I almost fainted was because I was so surprised. A marriage proposal was the very last thing I expected that night."

"So what happened?" T.K. said, leaning forward in her chair.

"I sat down and caught my breath, and he brought me a glass of water," Natalie said, with dignity. "And _then_ I said yes."

"Making me the luckiest man in the world," Adrian said, leaning over to kiss her cheek. T.K. sighed happily while Julie rolled her eyes.

"What did you do afterwards?" T.K. wanted to know.

"We… celebrated," Natalie said, and was seized with a fit of the giggles.

"A lot," Adrian snickered.

Julie threw up her hands in protest, appealing to Leland. "Captain? Second offense?"

"I don't know, Julie," Leland said, his mustache twitching. "I'd get out my cuffs but I don't want to give them ideas."

"Oh my God." Julie dropped her face into her hands as the adults laughed uproariously. "I'm going to start wearing earplugs around them, I swear."

"Sorry," Adrian said, hiccuping slightly as he wiped tears of laughter from his eyes. "I'll behave, I promise."

"It's not just you who needs to behave," Julie said, giving her mother a pointed glance.

"Speaking of behaving, I had an interesting conversation with your mother today, Natalie," Leland mentioned. Monk had called him earlier in the day to give him a head's up, so he hadn't been caught entirely off guard by Peggy Davenport's call.

Natalie blanched, exchanging a wary glance with Adrian. "I'm so sorry. What'd she say?"

Julie, who had heard the whole story in the car on the way over, winced in sympathy. She'd ignored calls from her grandmother all afternoon, guessing what her reaction had been.

"She seemed to think I should arrest Monk for brainwashing you. At least, that was the gist of it." Leland calmly popped a mushroom in his mouth and chewed contemplatively.

"Oh God." Natalie rested her forehead on her hand in frank embarrassment.

Leland swallowed. "I told her that I'd file a restraining order against her if she called you, Monk, or me again. I may also have mentioned arresting her for harassment."

Natalie's head snapped up and she stared at him in disbelief. "You did?"

"She hung up on me after that, but I think I rattled her," Leland said.

"Great. Just great," Natalie muttered.

"You didn't get a call from anyone at the _Dispatch_ , did you?" Adrain asked, half afraid to know the answer.

"As a matter of fact, I did," Leland said. "From Susanne Campana, wanting to know if it was true that my former detective Adrian Monk was engaged. Must have been a slow news day today."

"That's what I said," Adrian agreed.

"I said 'No comment,' of course, and then did a run on her, just out of curiosity. It turns out that her brother is a cop. He works Narcotics, down the hall from the Homicide division. I think I can guess who her source was. I'll bet they could hear the cheering all the way down there."

"Adrian, I'll have you know that I gave Leland a stern lecture about not announcing other people's engagements before they're ready to do so themselves," T.K. informed him.

"And then _I_ said, 'Payback's a bitch,'" Leland said, cutting up his last piece of pork. "I seem to remember _someone_ announcing our engagement to my fiancée before it actually even happened."

Adrian blushed hotly. "That was an accident," he said weakly. "It sort of slipped out before I thought about it."

"Well, now we're even," Leland said in satisfaction.

T.K. rolled her eyes. "I'm going to go get the bread pudding."

After dinner, they filed into the living room. T.K. excused herself and came back a few minutes later carrying a stack of magazines and a few books. "Here, Natalie," she said, dropping them onto the coffee table. "These are yours now."

"Oh!" Natalie's eyes lit up with excitement as she gazed at the array of bridal magazines and wedding planning books. "These are great, T.K., thanks!"

Leland motioned Adrian over as the three women began poring over the magazines and chattering gaily. "It's going to be wedding planning mania in here for a while. Let's go get some air."

They slipped out to what T.K. laughingly referred to as Leland's "man cave," a small den off the living room that housed his sports and cop memorabilia, as well as a few leather chairs, a large television, and a small mini-fridge.

"So," Leland began, after he'd tossed Adrian a bottle of water from the fridge and grabbed a beer for himself. "Bachelor party."

"Leland, I don't _want_ a bachelor party," Adrian said firmly. "It's just not my style."

"We don't have to call it a bachelor party," Leland said, gesturing with his beer. "We can call it a 'Welcome Back'" party, if you prefer."

"What do you mean, 'welcome back'?" Adrian said, bewildered. "I'm not rejoining the force."

"Maybe not, but I feel like my friend has returned," Leland said, gazing at him levelly. "The way you were acting out there at dinner? I haven't seen that guy in about twelve years. Welcome back, buddy. It's good to see you again." He stuck out his hand.

Adrian shook it, embarrassed yet pleased. And he didn't bother with a wipe. "I haven't felt like this guy since…"

"Since Trudy was alive," Leland said, understanding.

"Yeah." Adrian sat in one of the leather chairs, contemplating his bottle of water. "I feel reborn," he said simply.

"I'm happy for you," Leland said, settling into another chair. "How's your first day as an engaged man gone so far?"

"Well, considering it started with a dead body," Adrian said, "it could really only go up from there."

Leland chuckled. "True." He took a swig of beer. "Oh, hey, that reminds me. We identified that body. His name was Phillip Victors, and he worked at International Fire Safety, Inc., just a few miles away from the pier."

"Any leads?" Adrian asked.

"His truck — which contained several empty fire extinguisher canisters he was planning on recycling — is missing, and one of his other co-workers didn't show up for work today. We have a BOLO out for both the truck and the co-worker. Apparently his boss saw them arguing last night after work — something about a poker game — and he told them to take it elsewhere. Looks like they did, and things got ugly."

"The murder weapon is probably floating in the Bay," Adrian mused. "But if he used the truck to transport the body, you might find some trace evidence there."

"My thoughts exactly. Believe it or not, I think we'll manage to wrap this one up without you." He took another drink of his beer. "Thanks for the heads-up about Peggy Davenport, by the way. You were right about her trying to call and stir up trouble."

Adrian shook his head. "You should have heard her on the phone with us. She was _vicious_." His hand tightened around his water bottle. "She made Natalie cry."

"Yeah, Randy and I both got a load of her at Jonathan Davenport's wedding," Leland said. "She's a piece of work. Weddings tend to bring out the best or the worst in family, depending." He studied the label on his beer then toasted Adrian with the bottle. "Here's hoping your maid of honor won't turn out to be a fugitive murderess."

Adrian chuckled wryly. "I hope not." He sighed and uncapped his water, taking a drink. "Natalie is determined to talk Ambrose into coming to the wedding, but I think she's wasting her time."

"Has Ambrose ever had therapy?" Leland asked curiously.

"Not really," Adrian said gloomily. "It's difficult, even with agoraphobia, to find a therapist willing to make house calls. I know he tried phone therapy for a while, but then Trudy died, and we… lost touch."

"Maybe he should try again," Leland suggested. "Being able to go to the wedding might be good incentive. And the fact that he was able to leave his house for Christmas is decent progress, right?"

"That's true," Adrian admitted cautiously.

"Have you guys thought about steering clear of the whole wedding thing and just eloping?"

"I suggested it, but Natalie has her heart set on a real wedding." Adrian shrugged helplessly. "She's never had one before."

Leland frowned. "She and Mitch…?"

" _They_ eloped," Adrian explained. "Because of her mother."

"Ah," Leland said, nodding. "That explains a lot."

"Did you know that she's never even had an engagement ring before?" Adrian continued, still amazed at that fact.

"Aw, poor kid," Leland said, understanding. "I can see why she wants to have the whole shebang this time around. Well, she's got T.K. to help her with the details, and I'm sure Julie's eager to help out too." He grinned. "It isn't every kid who can say they got to help plan their mom's wedding."

"The thing is, I don't think we can afford a really fancy wedding," Adrian said nervously. "Trudy's family paid for ours, or else we wouldn't have been able to have anything nearly as nice."

"You'll figure out something," Leland said encouragingly. "A couple of those books that T.K. gave to Natalie are about doing wedding planning on a budget, finding places to cut corners, that kind of thing. Her family contributed some money to ours, but we paid for most of it ourselves. It wasn't easy, but we managed."

"It's starting to hit me how much things are going to change," Adrian said, feeling relieved to be able to confide some of the thoughts that had started swirling in his brain today. "One of us will have to give up their home and move in with the other — we haven't even _started_ to discuss that yet."

"You'll figure out a way to make it work," Leland said easily. "When you love each other, you do what you have to do."

"But am I strong enough?" Adrian said, voicing one of his biggest fears. "What if I — what if I revert back to who I was before?"

"You traveled through hell and came out stronger on the other side," Leland told him. "I can't see you going back. Besides, you have Natalie to keep you grounded, and Dr. Bell." He grinned. "And me. I promise that I'll slap some sense into you if you need it."

"Thank you, Leland… I think," Adrian said, grinning.

"Anytime, pal." Leland drummed his fingers on his knees, and then leaned forward. "Okay, I'm sorry, but I gotta ask." He lowered his voice. "So when you and Natalie, uh… you know… it went okay?"

It took him a minute, but Adrian finally understood what his friend was insinuating. He leaned forward as well. " _More_ than okay."

"Is that so?" Leland said approvingly.

He couldn't resist bragging slightly, nor could he tamp down a little bit of pride. "All three times."

Leland's eyebrows shot up. No wonder Monk had sounded so damn smug this morning. "I'm almost jealous."

Adrian reddened. "Well, you know. Twelve years of abstinence, then six weeks of anticipation…" He shrugged. "Things sort of… built up."

They both jolted upright in their chairs at the sound of a knock on the door. T.K. stuck her head in the doorway. "If we could tear you gentlemen away from your port and cigars," she said teasingly, "Julie says she needs to get back to the dorm pretty soon."

"Oh… sure," Adrian said. He and Leland followed T.K. back to the living room, where Julie and Natalie were busy packing up their new wedding planning materials.

"We called Sharona," Julie informed him.

" _And_ sent her pictures of the ring," T.K. added, pocketing her digital camera.

"My ears still hurt from the squealing," Natalie said, but she was smiling.

"Oh, good. Now she won't hunt me down and hurt me for breaking my promise," Adrian said — a little relieved despite his jest.

"I'm sure Randy will give us a full report of her opinions tomorrow," Leland said wryly. "Let me get your coats."

The four friends (plus Julie) said their good-byes, and in due course Adrian and Natalie dropped Julie off at the dorm, with Julie promising to come over again soon for a wedding planning session.

On the way back to his apartment, Adrian felt glad they'd accepted the dinner invitation, despite his initial misgivings. He certainly felt better after his talk with Leland, and Natalie seemed in better spirits as well. He supposed the "girl time" had been good for her.

"Is the captain still planning on throwing you a bachelor party?" Natalie asked, breaking into his thoughts.

He grimaced slightly. "Sounds like it. At this point I think it'll be easier to let him plan it, and then I'll mysteriously get sick that night."

She laughed. "It won't work; you're almost never sick."

He slanted a glance in her direction. "Perhaps my lovely fiancée will need me desperately for something that evening."

She grinned. "I don't think so."

"Or maybe there'll be a murder," he continued, inspired.

"The victim will be you if you don't show up," Natalie warned.

He sighed. "I'm not getting out of it, am I?"

"Nope, I think you're stuck." She reached over and patted his knee. "If it makes you feel any better, I think he can be counted on to not plan anything… inappropriate. I bet you'll have fun."

"I doubt it." He sighed as they pulled up to his apartment. "It was an enjoyable evening, but it's good to be home." He glanced at the paper sack bulging with magazines and books in the back of the car. "Do you want to bring that in or leave it in here for tonight?"

"I'll leave it in here," she said, unbuckling her seat belt. "I'll drop it off at my house tomorrow. I'll need to go and get some changes of clothes anyway — I only have one left at your place."

"Eventually, we're going to need to decide what's going to become 'our' place," Adrian mused. "Your house or my apartment."

Natalie nodded. "I know. But for now it's simpler for me to stay here. For one thing, it's easier and faster for me to pack an overnight bag than it is for you."

She had a point.

Adrian followed her into the apartment. "How are you feeling, by the way?" he asked, locking the door behind them.

"I'm fine," she said offhandedly, slipping out of her coat.

"Are you still sore?" he asked, hesitantly.

She turned and looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "It's not too bad. Did you have something in mind?" she inquired teasingly.

"I was thinking we could… burn some calories." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Natalie laughed, shaking her head at him and playfully punching him in the arm. "I can't _believe_ you said that. In front of Julie, too."

He shrugged. "She'll get over it."

Natalie slipped an arm into his as they walked companionably down the hallway.

"You're sure you're okay?" Adrian asked. "Because if not, I can wait."

She smiled at him, and something in her smile made his toes curl. "I was thinking I could use a shower before bed. Why don't you join me?" And she disappeared into his bathroom.

He stared after her, stupefied, but his shock quickly morphed into anticipation as he followed her inside.


	8. Chapter 8

The next morning, after another shared shower and a leisurely breakfast, they drove over to her house. Monk picked up the papers from her front step and brought them inside as Natalie grabbed her mail. He dusted the downstairs and watered her plants while she threw in a load of laundry, then he sat on the couch to leaf through that day's paper as she sat next to him and sorted through her mail.

An item on page ten made him sit up and pull the paper closer. "Oh my," he said.

"Hmmm?" Natalie glanced over, and then did a double-take. "Is that _us_?"

It was, indeed, a picture of them, one taken during the promotional hoopla surrounding his 100th case. The headline read:

 **Mr. Monk and the New Fiancée**

 _Former Detective Finds Love Again_

The byline, as he expected, was Susanne Campana.

"Oh, for crying out loud," he groaned as he began reading. Natalie leaned over his arm to read along.

 _One of SFPD's finest, former detective turned famous private investigator Adrian Monk, has recently become engaged to his longtime assistant, Natalie Teeger (née Davenport), according to a knowledgeable source in the department._

 _Monk is perhaps best known for his successful foiling of a plot to assassinate the governor of California several years ago, adding yet another lifetime jail sentence to that of his long-time nemesis, former finance mogul Dale Biederbeck, who is currently imprisoned in San Quentin. Monk is also responsible for solving the murder of City Councilwoman Eileen Hill, as well as the arrest and subsequent conviction of the_ Dispatch's _former theater critic, John Hannigan, for first-degree murder._

"Actually, _I'm_ the one that — " Natalie muttered, but Adrian shushed her so he could continue reading.

 _Most recently, Monk, while back on the SFPD police force for a short stint, was responsible for the apprehension of Mikhail Almonov, who killed SFPD officer Russell DiMarco over a plot to split the proceeds of reward money from the arrest of the notorious Pickaxe Killer. Monk was also present when, shortly before the new year, his now-fiancée Natalie Teeger was held hostage in her home in what the police described as a "robbery gone wrong" by Wallace Dougal, a known heroin dealer. The encounter ended with the suspect surrendering peacefully, and Teeger was reportedly not seriously harmed by the incident, suffering only a mild head injury and slight dehydration._

 _Monk's first marriage ended in tragedy when his wife, Trudy (née Ellison), was mysteriously killed by a car bomb on December 14, 1997. Despite his best efforts, her case has never been solved._

"So far as _you_ know," Monk muttered scornfully.

 _Teeger was widowed in January 1998 when the plane of her husband, Naval pilot Lieutenant Commander Mitchell Teeger, was shot down over Kosovo by Serbian terrorists. The two have a daughter, Julie Teeger, 18, who is a freshman at UC-Berkeley. Natalie Teeger is also the daughter of Robert Davenport, President and CEO of Davenport Toothpaste._

 _Teeger reportedly began working as Monk's assistant approximately five years ago after the departure of his nurse, Sharona Fleming, who moved to New Jersey several months prior to Teeger's hire. It's not known how long Monk and Teeger have been romantically involved, but an anonymous source reports that the two were seen "dancing intimately" at the SFPD Charity Gala on New Year's Eve._

 _Adrian Monk, when reached by telephone at his apartment, had no comment. Captain Leland Stottlemeyer of the SFPD, who has repeatedly hired Monk to consult on homicide cases, also had no comment. Ms. Teeger was unavailable for comment._

"Well, it could have been worse," he sighed, folding the paper neatly and placing it on the coffee table. "I guess we won't have to bother with a formal engagement announcement in the newspaper."

"Somehow I don't think that an engagement announcement _we_ wrote would have talked about us 'dancing intimately' at the Gala," Natalie said ruefully.

"At least her anonymous source was in the ballroom and not out on the terrace," he said, smiling.

Natalie blushed, remembering one particularly heated make-out session they'd engaged in that evening, in the shadowed, semi-private terrace nook outside the ballroom. "Thank goodness for small mercies."

Adrian suddenly froze, trepidation on his face. "What is it?" Natalie asked, touching his arm.

"I need to call Lieutenant Gautier," he said, referring to the JAG officer who had worked with them in solving Trudy and Mitch's cases. "That article mentioned both Biederbeck and Dougal — and Dougal's attack on you specifically. If Dale reads it in prison, he might — "

"Oh God," Natalie said, paling. Adrian looked around helplessly, and then Natalie retrieved her cell phone from her purse and found Gautier's personal cell number in her contact list. She handed him the phone.

"His assets are reportedly frozen, but they're not sure if they've found them all. He might have some hidden accounts from which he could hire a hit," Adrian said, punching the "call" button and putting the phone to his ear. "Or he might be able to call in a few favors from inmates or prison guards at California State Prison, where Dougal is incarcerated. There's no telling — hello? Lieutenant Gautier? This is Adrian Monk…"

After a short conversation, in which Gautier promised he would call the officials at San Quentin and make sure that particular section of the paper was removed from the prison library before Dale could get access to it, Adrian punched the "end" button.

"That should take care of it," he said with a relieved sigh. "Usually there's a delay of a day or two before the papers are put in the library, so they should be able to make sure he doesn't see the article."

"Thank God you noticed," Natalie said fervently. "I didn't give it a second thought." She flicked her finger against his lapel playfully. "I guess that's why you're the famous private investigator and I'm just your humble assistant."

"About that…" Adrian said, reaching up to caress her cheek. "I think you've earned a promotion."

She grinned. It was about time. "Oh, really? Do I get a new title?"

"Hmmm," he said, pretending to consider. "How about… partner?"

"Ooh, I like it." She sat up on her knees and looped her arms around his neck. "Does it come with a raise?"

"Oh yeah." He kissed her. "Fifty-fifty split of all the profits. Plus room and board." He kissed her again, more deeply, sliding his hands around her waist. " _And_ you get sexual favors from the boss."

"Well, how can I say no to that?" she murmured as he pulled her onto his lap. She straddled him as they kissed slowly and passionately.

A loud knock on the door startled them both. "Maybe if we ignore them, they'll think no one's home and go away," Adrian whispered, his breathing labored.

"My car's in the driveway," Natalie reminded him, her voice equally strained. He groaned in protest as she climbed off of him. "Hang on, I'm going to find out who it is and send them packing."

She opened the door, fully prepared to give the Jehovah's Witness or whoever it was a blistering send-off. But the person she saw when she opened the door made her recoil in surprise.

"Hi, honey," her father said.

"Dad? What are _you_ doing here?" she said blankly. She blushed, suddenly realizing how rude that sounded. "That is — I'm sorry, I didn't mean — "

"I was wondering if I might speak with you," he said, very politely. "And Mr. Monk as well, if he's here."

"Um… okay," she said, opening the door wider and showing him inside. Adrian rose to his feet, exchanging an uneasy glance with Natalie as he did so.

"Good morning, Mr. Monk," Bobby Davenport said. He was wearing a snappy three-piece gray suit and carrying a shiny brown leather briefcase. His shirt was pale yellow; his tie was dark gray and patterned with thin yellow stripes the same color as his shirt. "I was hoping you'd be here."

"Hello, Mr. Davenport," Adrian said nervously, twisting his hands together. He'd been on a first-name basis with her parents in the past, but given the situation he thought a bit more formality was called for. His stomach clenched at the thought of another family ruction.

Five full seconds of strained silence passed before Natalie thought to say, "Could I get you some coffee?"

"No, I'm fine, but thank you." He waited a beat. "May I sit down?"

"Of course," Natalie said, blushing at her own negligence. She wasn't usually so thoughtless, but her father's unexpected appearance had rattled her.

Bobby Davenport settled down in an armchair, placing his briefcase on the floor next to his feet, as Natalie and Adrian sat down next to one another on the sofa.

Natalie reached for Adrian's hand and clutched it tightly. Adrian put a supportive arm around Natalie's waist, a gesture that did not go unnoticed by her father.

"I suppose you're both wondering why I'm here," he said. "I would have called first, but frankly I didn't want to give you an excuse to find somewhere else to be." He directed his gaze at Natalie. "And I wouldn't have blamed you one bit after the way your mother talked to you yesterday."

Natalie relaxed fractionally. "She said some pretty terrible things," she said quietly.

"I only heard the conversation second-hand, but judging by what she told me, she did say some pretty terrible things," her father agreed. "She was well into her third martini by the time I got home from my golf game, so she didn't censor much." He glanced at Natalie's ring and smiled. "However, I understand that congratulations are in order?"

Natalie smiled tentatively and held out her hand for her father's inspection.

"It's lovely," Bobby said after admiring the ring for a moment. "According to the paper, you two have been together — romantically, that is — since at least New Year's Eve?"

"Yes," Natalie said awkwardly. "I'm sorry, I should have said something before, but… well, I was afraid that Mom…"

"…would react in exactly the way that she did," he said. The lines of his face settled into a grave expression. "I'm sure it brought back some unpleasant memories of when you told her you were going to marry Mitch."

She nodded.

"Natalie, I'm here for two reasons," Bobby said. "The first is because I owe you an apology. I didn't stand up for you, years ago, when you announced your engagement to Mitch. I have no excuse other than to say that I wasn't very accustomed to going against your mother, so I took the coward's way out and said nothing at all rather than rock the boat. I'm very, very sorry for that, especially since it meant that I never got to know Mitch very well, and find out for myself what a fine young man he was."

She tried to say something, but found she couldn't speak past the lump in her throat.

"Which brings me to the second reason I'm here," he continued. "I don't intend to make the same mistake twice. I only know you slightly, Mr. Monk, but I also know that my daughter wouldn't have consented to marry you unless you were a good man, and an honorable one. Our previous associations have already shown me that you are both."

Adrian squeezed Natalie's hand. "Thank you, sir," he said, stunned. "And, please… given the circumstances, call me Adrian."

"Then you must call me Bobby," he returned. "Or Dad, if you prefer. None of this 'sir' or 'Mr. Davenport' formality. You're to be my son-in-law, and I for one welcome you to our family."

"What about Mom?" Natalie asked, her voice thick with emotion.

"She'll have to deal with it," he said, showing anger for the first time. "I refuse to stand by while her stubborn pride and — and foolish notions of propriety chase our daughter away from us again. Once was more than enough."

"Thank you," Natalie said, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. "You have no idea how much it means to hear you say that."

He smiled at her tenderly. "I love you, Kitten, and you have no idea how sorry I am for all of this. I can't control what your mother says, or even most of what she does, but there is something I _can_ control." He lifted his briefcase from beside the chair, balanced it on his lap, and popped it open. He extracted an unsealed white envelope, stamped with the logo of a prominent San Francisco bank, and then closed and locked the briefcase again, restoring it to its former position.

"When you were born," he said, "I opened a savings account for you, and I transferred funds into it every quarter."

Natalie nodded. "My college fund."

"No," he shook his head. "That was opened by your grandparents. This account was opened by me, and me alone. Even though you were only a few days old, I started saving money for your wedding."

"I never knew that," Natalie said, moved.

"It was supposed to be a surprise. I still wanted to offer it to you after you became engaged to Mitch, despite what your mother said about us not contributing one cent, but before I could do so without your mother finding out, the two of you had already eloped. And given what you had said about never accepting a dime from us if you were starving to death in the gutter, I thought it best not to offer after the fact."

Heat flooded her face. "Dad, I'm sor—"

He cut her off gently. "I'm not finished. At any rate, I had decided to wait until the day Julie became engaged and give it to her for her wedding expenses instead. However, recent events changed my mind." He held out the envelope to her. "I closed out the account first thing this morning and had the bank issue a cashier's check in your name."

Natalie didn't move. Finally, Adrian reached out and took the envelope. He lifted the flap and peeked inside. The dollar amount he saw made him gasp. "Natalie," he said shakily. "I'd think you'd better look at this."

Seeing the shock on his face, Natalie took the envelope from him and also looked inside. She went pale. "Dad, I can't accept this," she said, shaking her head. "It's too much—"

"It's yours," Bobby said firmly. "Don't think of it as a gift; think of it as a favor to your father. Natalie, I'm not getting any younger. I thought I'd forever missed the chance to walk my little girl down the aisle at her wedding, and I've bitterly regretted that. Please don't deny me that opportunity again."

Natalie teared up again. "Oh, Daddy," she said, and flung herself at him.

Adrian rescued the check before it went flying, holding it tightly in disbelief.

Bobby patted his daughter's back, his own eyes moist. "At least we know that there won't be any homicidal maniacs at _your_ wedding."

"I wouldn't guarantee that," Natalie said, sniffing and knuckling tears off her cheeks. "Adrian seems to attract them like flies."

"It's a gift… and a curse," Adrian said dryly. "But even so, we'll try to refrain from inviting anyone bent on killing the bride or groom."

"Always a good plan," Bobby said, chuckling. "However, I think that means your mother is off the guest list for now."

"What are you going to do about her?" Natalie asked, concerned. She knew, from practically her entire childhood, how difficult it was to live with Peggy Davenport when she was on the warpath about something.

Her father shrugged. "I'm going to tell her precisely where she can stick it."

"Dad!" Natalie said, not sure whether she was appalled or impressed. She'd never heard her father use language like that before.

"I'm serious, Natalie. I've had it. If she's going to continue her ridiculous vendetta, she can do it alone. I'll lease an apartment elsewhere, or even go stay with Jonathan if I have to."

Despite her amazement at her father's bold claim, Natalie shook her head. "She's not going to back down."

"Perhaps, perhaps not," Bobby said. "I'm not going to waste my breath trying to persuade her. If she wants to end up a bitter, lonely woman who's driven away her entire family, then she can keep doing what she's doing. But maybe, through some miracle, she'll come to her senses and apologize to you – _and_ Adrian."

Natalie shook her head again, sadly. "I'm not going to hold my breath."

"I know, Kitten," her father said kindly. "But in the meantime, you take that money and you plan the wedding of your dreams… and when the day comes, I'll be there with bells on, no matter what your mother decides. All right?"

"All right," she relented.

"That's my girl," her father said, patting her hand. "Well, I've played hooky from the office long enough for today, so I'd better start heading back." He picked up his briefcase and rose to his feet.

Adrian rose, too, and did something he very rarely did. He initiated a handshake. He could give no greater honor. "Thank you, sir – I mean, Bobby – very much," he said, fervently and sincerely. "Not only for the generous gift, but for your support, too."

Bobby shook his hand, looking very pleased. "It truly is my pleasure, on both accounts. I look forward to getting to know you better."

"Are you sure you can't stay a little longer?" Natalie asked, standing as well and threading her arm through Adrian's.

"Not today, but I'll come down for the weekend sometime soon," he promised. "Maybe I'll even convince Jonathan to abandon Seattle and join me."

"I'd like that," Natalie smiled.

Her father kissed her cheek, and then hugged her soundly. "I love you, Natalie. Never forget that."

She hugged him back. "I love you too, Dad. Have a safe drive back."

After he had left, Adrian gently placed the envelope with the check on the table. "I still don't believe it," he said, staring at it reverently. "You can have any kind of wedding you want now."

"But I can't make my mother change her mind," Natalie said, a little forlornly. "I don't know why I even care – we've clashed about _everything_ as long as I've been alive. But it still hurts that she wants to disown me."

Understanding, he pulled her into a hug. "I know how it feels."

She winced at that, belatedly remembering that his father had been deliberately absent for a good chunk of his childhood and the vast majority of his adult life as well. She'd never known his mother, but what she had heard about her wasn't good. What the hell was she whining about? She at least had one good, loving, supportive parent, whereas he had none. She buried her head in his chest and let herself be soothed by his embrace. "I don't deserve you," she said, her voice muffled against his shirt.

He kissed the top of her head. "And I don't deserve you. Yet, here we are."

She looked up at him, then, and the love and tenderness she saw on his face stole her breath. The depth of his feelings for her still both thrilled and baffled her. She was no Trudy, yet he looked at her as though she was. It was sometimes frightening, knowing that she could never live up to what Trudy had been to him no matter how much she tried. Yet the amazing thing was that he didn't expect her to — he was simply happy with all that she could give him, as inadequate as it seemed to her.

"What?" he asked, puzzled by her strange expression.

She shook her head. "Nothing. It's just — occasionally, I have a hard time believing this is real."

"I also know how that feels." He kissed her, long and deeply, and both of them suddenly remembered what they'd been up to before Bobby Davenport's interruption.

"Hey," she murmured against his lips. "You were saying something earlier about sexual favors?"

He grinned. "Let me demonstrate." Laughing, he pulled her down onto the couch.


	9. Chapter 9

_One month later_

"You know, maybe I _don't_ want a big wedding after all," Natalie sighed, looking over the ever-growing checklist of to-do items given to her by their wedding coordinator. The paperwork took up the entire coffee table in front of her.

"Too late now," Adrian said from behind his newspaper. "We've paid the deposit, and it's non-refundable."

"Well, you're no help," she muttered.

"I thought the point of a wedding coordinator was to minimize the work involved for us," he said mildly.

"She _has_ minimized it," Natalie returned. "But there's still a lot to do — especially with less than four months to plan everything. And we have to check off on all the final decisions."

"If you want more time, we can afford to lose the deposit," he pointed out. Her father's gift had made that entirely possible.

"We've already had this discussion, Adrian," she said, annoyed. "I'm happy with June fourth as our wedding date, I love the Four Seasons, and I adore Cassandra. I just wish I could add a few more hours onto the day, that's all."

Adrian and Natalie had decided to hold their wedding at the San Francisco Four Seasons, the site of their first kiss, and the place where they had, in their minds, officially started their romance. Thanks to the generosity of Bobby Davenport, they were able to afford to purchase an entire "wedding package" so that the bulk of the preparation for the ceremony, reception, and dance would be handled by the hotel staff.

The package also included the services of their own personal wedding coordinator, a charming young woman named Cassandra Donaghue. She and Natalie had hit it off, one reason being that Cassandra was a Navy brat (her father was currently deployed), just like Julie had been.

Unfortunately, the weekend days at the Four Seasons had been booked solid, with the first available Saturday or Sunday being nine months out. Unwilling to wait that long, Adrian and Natalie had opted instead for a Friday evening wedding, with the ceremony beginning at 5pm, a cocktail and hors d'oeuvres party for the guests while the wedding party completed pictures, a dinner reception starting at 7pm, and a dance from 9pm until midnight. Their package included a room at the hotel for their wedding night, and the next morning they planned to have a celebratory brunch for the wedding party and close family members at the hotel restaurant.

Although excited, Natalie was beginning to feel the strain. Having never had a wedding of this scale before, she hadn't quite realized how many details there were to take care of, or how many decisions had to be made. Oddly enough, sometimes she even wished her mother was willing to help out. Peggy Davenport excelled at planning fancy events — the elegant wedding she'd been able to throw together for Jonathan on short notice was more than enough evidence of that — and although Natalie knew her mother would likely ignore her input, she still found herself wishing she could at least ask for advice. Sadly, so far Peggy Davenport was proving intractable.

Julie and T.K. were pitching in where they could, but Julie was swamped with a busy school schedule and musical rehearsals, and T.K. was busy preparing for a big appliance convention she'd be attending for the magazine she worked for, so neither of them had been as available as she'd hoped.

Adrian was content to leave most of the decisions to her, save the ones that directly involved him — so far he'd chosen his own tuxedo, as well as those the groomsmen would be wearing, and they were going to go pick out their wedding rings in a few days. Still, that left a lot on her plate. Tonight, she had to finalize the invitation wording so they could be addressed, stamped, and mailed out — all of which had been outsourced to a local print shop, the guest list and addresses having already been provided. Then would come the task of managing the RSVPs. She still had to finalize the menu for the reception, the cake choice, the wine list for the cocktail reception, and she even had to decide if she wanted the cocktail napkins engraved — along with a hundred other tiny details. It was overwhelming.

Natalie buried her head in her hands, feeling a headache pounding at her temples. She still hadn't had any luck convincing Ambrose to attend the wedding, either, which posed a problem with the wedding party. Natalie thought Ambrose should be Adrian's best man, or at the very least a groomsman, but Adrian was unwilling to commit to either plan since Ambrose still wasn't sure about coming. Added to that, they seemed to have an overabundance of groomsmen and not enough bridesmaids.

Natalie had asked Julie to be her maid of honor, of course, and both Sharona and T.K. had eagerly accepted the role of bridesmaid. Adrian had asked Leland and Randy to be groomsmen (with Leland a strong contender for best man if Ambrose couldn't make it), and he wanted to ask Jonathan Davenport (who had vocally sided with his father and against his mother in support of Adrian and Natalie's engagement) to be a groomsman as well. However, that left them one bridesmaid short, assuming Natalie could convince Ambrose to be in the wedding, but she wasn't close to any of her cousins anymore and she didn't want to ask a random female relative to be in her wedding solely for the sake of rounding out the wedding party. There were no female relatives of Adrian's that she could ask, either.

On top of everything else, they were still trying to decide who should move where. Both of their leases were up for renewal on June 1, so they had to give notice to one of their landlords by April 1, which was only a few weeks away. _Then_ one of them would have to start packing up and moving. But although they'd weighed the pros and cons of his apartment versus her house, they hadn't yet made a decision. For now, Natalie was mostly staying at his place.

Plus they still had their jobs to do. The article about their engagement in the _Dispatch_ had drawn a surprising amount of attention to Adrian's career, and as a result they were both busier than they'd ever been — not only with SFPD cases, but private cases as well. It was good for their budget, but not good for her sanity.

Strong hands suddenly began to massage her shoulders, his fingers digging into the tense muscles of her shoulders with incredible deftness. "Oh God," she groaned, slumping over the arm of the couch in relief. "Don't stop."

Adrian frowned in concern as he massaged her shoulders. He'd never felt her so tense, and he hadn't realized how anxious she was making herself. Maybe he'd done the wrong thing in letting her handle all the decisions. He'd thought he was doing her a favor, letting her have it all her own way — Trudy hadn't needed help, but then she'd had her mother's assistance, and she'd loved planning dinners and social gatherings and other events.

Natalie had many talents, but event planning wasn't one of them. Granted, she'd done a terrific job with his 50th birthday party, but he knew it'd been complicated and stressful for her — and his birthday party had been small in scale compared to their wedding.

When she was limp with relaxation, he gently lifted her onto his lap so that they were both facing the coffee table. "Okay," he said, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder. "How can I help?"

She sighed, her eyes still closed. "I'm really not good at this."

"That's not true. You're just inexperienced." He kissed her neck. "What's at the top of your list?"

She cracked open her eyes. "The invitations."

"What needs to be done about the invitations?"

"I need to finalize the wording tonight so that they can start printing tomorrow."

"What are the options?"

"I'm trying to decide between these two." She leaned forward, selected two cards from off the table, and handed them to him.

He studied both options.

 _The honor of your presence is requested_  
 _at the marriage of_  
 _Natalie Jane Teeger  
_ _and  
_ _Adrian Monk  
_ _etc._

and

 _Ms. Natalie Jane Teeger  
_ _and  
_ _Mr. Adrian Monk  
_ _invite you to share in their joy  
_ _as they exchange marriage vows  
_ _etc._

"The second one," he said immediately, pointing at it. "I like the part about sharing in our joy."

She blinked. She'd spent the better part of an hour trying to decide, and he'd taken less than a minute. "All right." She wrote it down in the binder she was using to keep track of everything.

"What next?" he asked.

"Cake," she said. "I've already settled on the design" — she showed him an image of a cake that had four squares in graduating sizes, iced in white, with a simple solid ribbon in their wedding color decorating the base of each layer — "but I keep changing my mind about the flavor." She consulted a list in her binder. "The choices are classic chocolate, double lemon, banana truffle, red velvet, cheesecake, almond cream, chocolate toffee truffle, and berries and cream. They all sound good to me and I can't decide."

"Well, that's easy," he said, admiring the cake design. He knew she'd picked it with his preferences in mind, even though he'd told her to go with whatever she wanted, and he loved her for it. "Cheesecake. It's what we had the night we were engaged."

She blinked again. Put that way, it _was_ easy. "What if some people don't like cheesecake?"

"No one's forcing them to eat it," he said. "Do you really think you'll be able to pick one flavor that _everyone_ will like?"

She felt foolish that she'd let herself agonize over that very question for so long. "I guess not."

"Okay, mark that as done, too. Now what?"

They plowed through her list with impressive speed, and by the end of the evening she felt amazingly better by what they'd accomplished.

"When did you get so good at making decisions?" she asked, touching her forehead to his.

"I think it happened around the same time I decided to propose to you," he said, nuzzling her neck. "I'm sorry I didn't offer to help before. I thought you wanted to do it all on your own."

"I did, at first," she admitted. "I just didn't realize there were so many _details_. I never want to plan a wedding like this again."

"Good," he said, amused. "I hope you never have another wedding."

She lightly smacked him on the shoulder. "You know what I mean. Poor Julie. If she expects me to help plan something like this if she gets married someday…" She trailed off.

"She'll probably want to handle most of it herself. You'll just be support staff."

"I guess so." She rested her forehead against his. "Now can you decide where we're going to live?"

He grimaced slightly. "I'm having trouble with that one, actually."

"Me too." Natalie sighed. "I like your apartment, but if we live here, then Julie has no place to stay during summer vacation and holidays. And we'd have to put all of her furniture and things in storage."

"And I like your house, but my apartment is in better repair, it costs less, and it's closer to the police station," he said. "Dr. Bell asked me today if we'd thought about finding a new place altogether."

"And when would we have time to go apartment or house-hunting on top of investigating cases and all the things we have to do before the wedding? It's bad enough that one of us is going to have to pack up and move on top of everything, but _both_ of us?"

"It's a problem," he said, frowning.

They sat in silence, thinking, for a long while. Finally, Natalie spoke up. "I need to talk to Julie again before we decide anything. She'd said she'd been thinking of renting a house with her roommate and a few other friends this summer, and if that's the case it might make our decision easier."

"Sounds good," he agreed. "What do you say we — "

He was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"What on earth — " Natalie said in surprise, glancing at the clock. "It's after eight."

Adrian crossed to his apartment door and opened it. "Hello, Leland."

"Hey, Monk," his friend greeted, stepping over the threshold. "Hey, Natalie."

"Hi, Cap — Leland," she said, rising to greet him. He'd implored her to start using his first name, at least socially. She was trying her best, even though she found it difficult, for reasons she couldn't articulate.

"What brings you here so late?" Adrian asked, closing the door.

Leland scratched the back of his neck. "I can't stay, I'm late getting home the way it is, but I gotta tell you something." He scrubbed his hands over his pants, and then looked at the two of them. "Dale Biederbeck died today."

Adrian clutched Natalie's hand. His throat worked furiously, but it took several seconds before he could croak, "How?"

"Heart attack. He was meeting with his lawyer, and he was officially served with the grand jury indictment for the criminal charges in connection with the Navy child trafficking scandal." Leland smiled grimly. "Including two counts of conspiracy to murder for Trudy and Mitch. My sources say he was so furious that he started screaming, and then he just keeled over — well, in a manner of speaking, anyway. He was pronounced dead at the scene. It took six guards and a reinforced gurney to get him to the prison morgue."

"I hope it was painful," Adrian said, equally grim.

"Adrian," Natalie murmured.

"I do," he said stubbornly, releasing her hand and folding his arms across his chest. "Trudy's death was painful. It's only fitting if his was, too."

"How will this affect Wally Dougal's plea deal?" Natalie asked Leland.

"He kept up his end of the bargain — he'd already given an evidentiary deposition for the grand jury, and he was set to testify at trial — so his deal will be honored."

Natalie nodded, her feelings mixed. She felt a surprising amount of sympathy for the man who had killed her first husband, but she still felt a great deal of anger as well. Still, she'd opted to pursue justice rather than revenge, and in the grand scheme of things, Dale Biederbeck had been the one responsible. Wally Dougal had just been a pawn, just as Frank Nunn and Warwick Tennyson had been pawns in Trudy's death.

"But," Leland continued, "with Dale dead, that effectively nullifies the reason for the gag order on the case. From what I've heard, the district attorney's office plans to petition for it to be lifted in the next week or two. I don't know how much longer things are going to be kept under wraps. Parts of the Navy file on this are still considered classified, but —"

"Trudy's case isn't," Adrian finished. "Good. I want the whole world to know he was responsible."

"This doesn't just affect you, Monk," Leland muttered, glancing at Natalie.

"It's going to come out sooner or later," she said, her tone one of tired resignation.

"Yeah," Leland acknowledged, "but I still wish Dale could have waited a few more months to kick the bucket. You two are under a lot of stress the way it is, and this just adds to it." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I gotta go, but I wanted you to find out from me and not from the news tonight."

"Thanks, Leland," Natalie said, patting his arm. "We appreciate it, really."

"We'll talk more tomorrow, okay?" He nodded at the two of them and left the apartment.

There was an uncomfortable, awkward silence after he'd gone. Adrian was staring at a picture of Trudy, one of the few still remaining around the apartment. In deference to Natalie, he'd removed and carefully packed away nearly all of them, although she had insisted that he keep a few up.

"It's almost a shame," Adrian finally said, mirthlessly. "I was going to send him a wedding invitation."

"Adrian!" Natalie exclaimed, aghast. "Why would you do such a thing?"

"Remember when he told me I'd never be happy again?" he demanded, whirling to face her. "That was going to be my proof that he was wrong. Why do you care?"

"It's the principle of the thing," she objected. "Generally, you only send invitations to people you _want_ to be there."

"So why are we sending one to your mother?" he asked caustically.

She flushed. "That's different, and you know it."

"How so? Aren't we only sending it to her to rub it in her face?"

"No," she said hotly. "We're sending it to her so she knows she's welcome to come _if_ she decides to apologize. Our wedding invitations aren't weapons, Adrian."

"I didn't say that they were," he returned. "But can you blame me for wanting to rub it into Dale's fat face that he was finally getting the comeuppance he deserved?"

"Yes, I can, when you intended to use _our wedding invitation_ to do it!" she fired back. "It's not just yours; my name is on it, too."

Adrian's eyes shot fury as his voice raised. "Well, I can't do it anyway, because he's _dead_!"

Natalie reflectively stepped back. She could count on one hand the number of times she'd seen him this angry. "It doesn't matter that you can't do it; what matters is that you _wanted_ to do it!" She folded her arms and glared at him. "You saw no problem at all with dragging me into some stupid revenge scheme against my will."

"My mistake," Adrian said, his voice turning cold and mocking. "It's not like he killed your _husband_. How silly of me to think you might care."

She paled. "How dare you." Her voice was trembling with fury. "I'm going to go home before I say something I'll regret."

"Fine," he spat. "Leave. I'd rather be alone anyway."

He stomped down the hall, into his bedroom, and slammed the door. A few moments later, there was an answering slam from the front door as she stormed out.

Adrian paced his room, too angry to sit down. "'Stupid revenge scheme,'" he muttered. He looked at the picture of Trudy that was still on his bureau top. For the first time in his memory, she seemed to look at him reproachfully.

"It wasn't stupid," he said to her picture. "Dale would have deserved it."

But her gaze didn't change.

He began to feel very uncomfortable. "It's not wrong to want some payback for all of the horrible things he did," he argued. "Why shouldn't I want to get some of my own back?"

 _Adrian, is that what I would have wanted?_ he could almost hear her say. _Even with all Dale did to me, did I ever stoop to seeking petty revenge against him during my life?_

"No," he muttered. "No, you didn't."

 _So what did you hope to accomplish?_

He was overcome by a fresh surge of anger. He grabbed her picture and shoved it into a drawer, blocking it from sight.

Adrian spent the next hour or so prowling around his apartment, restless, wishing he had a punching bag; preferably, one with Dale's face on it.

He saw the wedding paraphernalia that Natalie hadn't taken with her spread out over his coffee table and scowled. As he paced the living room for the thousandth time, the mock-ups of the wedding invitations caught his eye, and he stopped to look at the one he had chosen.

 _Ms. Natalie Jane Teeger  
_ _and  
_ _Mr. Adrian Monk  
_ _invite you to share in their joy  
_ _as they exchange marriage vows  
_ _etc._

"Share in our joy," he murmured. "Oh, God."

He slumped on the sofa, his head in his hands. He was an idiot. A first-class, grade-A, certifiable idiot. First, for even remotely considering the possibility of hijacking what was a symbol of their love and joy and using it for the opposite purposes — hatred and bitterness. And second, for taking out his pain and anger — borne out of his now-permanent inability to personally and finally confront Dale the Wale with the sure knowledge that he had been responsible for Trudy's death — on the woman he claimed to love. He cringed as he replayed their argument in his head — cringed at the horrible things he had said to her.

He snatched his cordless phone from its cradle and dialed Natalie's cell phone number. It went straight to voicemail, but he hung up rather than leave a message. He tried her home phone. Still no answer.

Cursing himself roundly, he paced around the living room, trying to decide what to do. Should he walk to her house and beg her to talk to him? Should he give her the night to cool down and then try calling her again in the morning? Should he call Julie and see if she'd have any luck passing a message along? No, it wasn't right to involve Julie in this.

Agonized, he glanced at the clock. It was half past ten. Maybe he should call Leland and — he sighed, rubbing his temples. Leland had probably gotten home not too long ago; it wasn't fair to drag him into this either.

A knock on his door startled him. Maybe she'd come back — maybe she'd come back so they could talk or —

He rushed to the door and wrenched it open. But it wasn't Natalie on the doorstep.

It was Leland Stottlemeyer.

"Leland," he said, puzzled and disappointed. "I thought you were going home for the night."

"I was," Leland said, and Adrian suddenly noticed how anguished he seemed. His face was drawn and pale, his eyes shadowed. The last time his friend had looked like that had been —

"Oh God," he whispered, the blood draining from his face. "Please, no."

"Monk," Leland said, the misery in his eyes deepening. "There's been an accident."


	10. Chapter 10

Adrian staggered, his knees buckling.

"Monk, listen to me," Leland said, lunging to catch Adrian before he collapsed on the floor. "She's alive. Natalie's alive, do you hear me?"

Adrian clutched at him, the words buzzing inside his ears. "Alive," he finally croaked. "She's not — "

"No," Leland said. But his eyes were still fearful. "She's hurt. But she's alive." He hesitated slightly. He was unwilling to give his friend false hope, and what little information he had indicated that the accident had been a bad one. "At least… she was the last I heard."

"Where is she?" Adrian regained his feet and turned suddenly, grabbing for his coat. He had to see her. He had to get to her right away. Before she – he wouldn't think it. _Couldn't_ think it, if he wanted to stay sane.

"San Francisco General. I came to get you." Leland used his own key to lock the door as Adrian charged into his car.

"What happened?" Adrian demanded, fairly writhing with impatience as Leland started the car and flipped on the sirens.

"It was a drunk driver. He was speeding, ran a stop sign, and T-boned her in an intersection." Leland glanced at him. "Where was she going? I thought she was going to stay at your place tonight."

Adrian stared out the windshield, guilt and misery etched in every line of his face. "We had a fight. Right after you left. I said some horrible things and she — she stormed out."

"Ah, geez." Leland felt terrible. "I'm sorry, Monk, I didn't — "

"It's not your fault," Adrian interrupted bleakly. "It's mine. I was an idiot. I told her to leave." He closed his eyes, and his voice cracked. "I said I'd rather be alone. Oh God." He covered his face with his hands. "Oh dear God." He'd gotten exactly what he'd asked for, in spades. It was his curse.

Leland couldn't think of anything to say other than the bald facts. "One of the responding officers to the accident recognized who she was and called me. By the time he did, she was already in the ambulance en route to the hospital so I dropped T.K. off there and came to get you."

"Julie," Adrian said suddenly. "She should — someone needs to — "

"Randy's taking care of it."

"This is all my fault," he said hollowly.

"It's the drunk driver's fault, Monk," Leland said sharply. "You never intended for anything like this to happen."

He shook his head. "If I hadn't been such an idiot, we wouldn't have fought, and she wouldn't have left."

"Or maybe she would have remembered something she needed from her house and gone to get it," he countered. "Monk, it was an _accident_. You didn't let her leave knowing that some asshole was going to get plastered and run into her."

"I should have gone after her and apologized," he moaned. "I shouldn't have let her go, but I was so mad, and so _stupid_."

"And the drunken putz should never have gotten behind the wheel of his truck," Leland said. "He's the one at fault here, Monk, not you." He drove onto the hospital parking lot and into a space reserved for police vehicles.

Once inside, they were directed into a waiting room adjacent to the Emergency Room. T.K. was there, and, to Adrian's surprise, so was Dr. Bell.

"Is there any news?" Adrian blurted.

"She's still in the ER," T.K. said, her eyes large and frightened. "I called Dr. Bell. I thought — "

"Anna's in there, Adrian," Dr. Bell said, his voice low and soothing. His wife was Dr. Anna Hector, the hospital's Chief of Emergency Medicine. "Anna's in there helping her right now."

"She's still alive?" he gasped, on the verge of hysteria.

"Natalie's alive," Dr. Bell said firmly, grasping Adrian's upper arms. "She's hurt, but she's alive. Focus on that. She needs you to be strong for her right now, Adrian."

 _She needs you. She needs you to be strong for her._ The phrases echoed in his head as he stared into the psychiatrist's eyes.

From deep inside himself, he found a reserve of strength he didn't know he had, and he straightened. "Okay. Yes," he said, his voice noticeably calmer.

"Let's sit down," Dr. Bell suggested. He gently guided Adrian to a chair.

"Tell me what else you know," Adrian said to Leland. "Please."

"Not much," Leland said, looking twenty years older, as he dropped into the chair next to him. "The guy who hit her was treated at the scene and then taken to jail. He has some cuts and bruises, maybe a mild concussion, but nothing serious. He blew a blood alcohol level of .18."

"You said you talked to the responding officer?" Adrian asked.

"Yeah."

"What else did he tell you?"

Leland shook his head. "Monk – "

" _What else_ , Leland?" he demanded.

"He said she was covered in blood," he said in a low voice. "And that her car looked like it'd been hit by a train."

Adrian closed his eyes, burying his face in his hands. _Be strong, be strong,_ he repeated like a mantra, fighting against the hysteria that threatened to rise in his throat and choke him.

"Mr. Monk?" said a shaky voice from the doorway. He raised his head and opened his eyes to see Julie, her face white and scared. Randy stood behind her.

"Julie," he said, surging to his feet. She ran to him, and he surprised them both by enveloping her in his arms.

"Is my mom dead?" Julie asked tearfully, leaning her head against his shoulder.

The question rocked him to his core. "No!" The word reverberated in the small room, and he realized he'd nearly shouted it. "No," he repeated, more softly this time. "She's alive."

"How bad is it? Will she — "

"We don't know," Adrian said heavily. "They're still working on her in the ER." He glanced around helplessly.

"I called Grandpa on the way here," she said through her tears. "He said he'll get to the hospital as soon as he can."

"Good." He hadn't even thought of notifying her parents, and felt guilty all over again. "Let's – let's just sit down."

In short order, someone – a nurse – came in to tell them that Natalie was being taken into emergency surgery, that Dr. Hector was assisting, and she would be back with more information as soon as she had it.

After that, they waited for hours. At one point, Julie fell asleep, her head pillowed on Adrian's chest. She'd clung to him the entire time, and he hadn't been able to bring himself to tell her that this had been his fault. His words to Natalie kept replaying in his head. _Fine. Leave. I'd rather be alone anyway._

What if those were the last words he ever said to her?

He wasn't a praying man, but several times through the long night he closed his eyes and talked to Trudy. _Please help her, if you can. I'll do anything. Help her to live so I can make it up to her, so I can apologize for what I said and for what I did. Please._ He even sent an appeal to Mitch. _I'm so sorry I failed her. Please help me make amends._

It was just after three in the morning when a noticeably haggard Anna Hector, dressed in a pair of aqua scrubs, opened the door to the waiting room. A surgical mask dangled from her neck, and wisps of dark hair escaped a blue surgical cap.

Adrian stiffened immediately, straightening in his chair, and his jerky movement woke Julie. "What?" she said sleepily.

"It's Dr. Hector," Adrian said, getting to his feet. Julie came wide awake instantly and stood, as did the other adults in the room.

"Mr. Monk," Dr. Hector greeted, crossing the room to him. "And Julie Teeger, is that right?"

"Yes," Julie said, her eyes wide and fearful.

"How is she?" Adrian asked anxiously. He felt that the world paused around him, and that his entire existence depended on what the doctor was about to say.

"Natalie is doing very well, considering," Dr. Hector said, her face softening with a smile. "The surgery was successful and she's in recovery right now."

T.K. gasped, "Thank God," and started to cry into her husband's shoulder. Leland broke into a relieved smile, as did Dr. Bell and Randy. Adrian started to breathe again as Julie seized his arm and sagged against him.

Dr. Hector, with a tired smile for her husband, guided Adrian (and Julie, who was still clutching his arm) back to their chairs. She pulled another chair over so she could sit facing them.

"When she was brought in, Natalie had significant internal bleeding, so we needed to operate," Dr. Hector told them, softly but firmly. "Her primary surgeon was Dr. Samuel Harmon, who is the best thoracic surgeon in the state of California. We stopped the bleeding, but we had to remove her spleen, as it was too damaged to save. She has two cracked ribs and two fractured ribs, the latter of which caused her left lung to collapse. She needed twenty stitches in her forehead to repair a deep laceration, likely caused by broken glass, and she has other superficial cuts and abrasions. There's also significant bruising, especially around her chest and torso. We transfused two liters of blood. But there are no other broken bones, no spinal damage that we can see, and we don't believe she suffered any head injuries other than the cut I mentioned earlier, which is frankly remarkable considering the trauma of the crash. From what it looks like, the seat belt in combination with the airbag saved her life and prevented critical injuries."

Adrian's relief was so profound that he felt dizzy. He was grateful he was already sitting down, otherwise he didn't think he would have remained upright. He breathed deeply, feeling some of then tension leave his body. Natalie's life had been spared. She wasn't going to leave him like Trudy had.

"So," Julie said hesitantly, "she's going to be okay?"

Dr. Hector patted her hand. "Absolutely. As I said, she's doing very well. Her vital signs remained stable throughout surgery and are still stable now, which is a very good sign. She's on a ventilator for breathing support, due to the collapsed lung, but we intend to remove that once she regains consciousness."

She looked at Adrian and her expression became a bit more serious. "Her recovery is going to be painful," she warned. "She'll have medication, of course, but broken ribs hurt quite a bit, and she'll be recuperating from surgery and the collapsed lung on top of that. I'm anticipating a week in the hospital, several more weeks of bed rest, and after that she'll still need to take it easy, with limited activity, for quite a while. But barring any unforeseen complications, I expect her to recover fully."

"What about the wedding?" Julie asked blankly. "It's in June, and — "

"That's not important, Julie," Adrian cut her off, more brusquely than he had intended. He tried to soften his tone at her stricken expression. "Natalie's health is the most important issue right now. Everything else is secondary."

"That reminds me," Dr. Hector said, reaching into her pocket. She pulled out a small, clear plastic bag and gave it to Adrian.

It held Natalie's engagement ring. It was clean, which surprised him. He supposed Dr. Hector must have made sure she didn't return it to him covered in blood.

"I took this off of her myself so as to keep it safe," she told him. "I'm sure she'll want it back at the earliest opportunity."

Adrian was far from sure of that, given his behavior towards Natalie earlier in the evening. However, he was grateful to hear that Dr. Hector had taken it off of her – that meant she hadn't taken it off herself after she'd left his apartment. "Thank you," he said quietly, tucking the bag into his pocket. "Can we see her?"

"She'll be in recovery for the next hour or so, but after that she'll be moved to the intensive care unit for a while – until she's off the ventilator, at least," Dr. Hector said. "Once she gets to the ICU you can see her, but only two people at a time, and no more than ten minutes each to start with. Quiet and rest are the best healers for her right now; we'll be keeping her sedated for the next several hours. You can spend more time with her later on, after she's had a chance to rest a bit more. As long as her condition remains stable after we remove the ventilator, she'll be moved to a standard room for the remainder of her stay, and regular visiting hours will apply." She patted his arm. "If you want to stay here at the hospital, there's a more comfortable waiting room up on the ICU floor, and you can wait there until she's allowed visitors."

He nodded, and she smiled. "I'll send someone to escort you."

Dr. Hector moved off to speak quietly with Dr. Bell, and Leland came over to him. "Do you want me to stay?" he asked.

Adrian's first instinct was to say yes, but he noticed how exhausted his friend looked. "No," he said instead. "I'll be fine if you want to go get some sleep."

Leland nodded. "I'm going to go home and zonk out for a few hours, and then I need to check in on some things at the station. I'll be back later this morning, as soon as I can. But you call me if you need anything, all right?" He squeezed Adrian's shoulder and rose to leave.

Shortly after, Adrian and Julie were escorted to the ICU waiting room. It was more comfortable, as Dr. Hector had promised, with plush couches instead of hard chairs, and several vending machines. A TV, off at the moment, was mounted in the corner.

Adrian sank down on one of the couches, so tired he could barely think.

"Do you want something from the vending machine?" Julie offered timidly.

"No." He rubbed his hands over his face. "Julie, I'm sorry I snapped at you earlier."

"That's okay, Mr. Monk," Julie said, sitting down next to him. "You were right — the wedding isn't important right now. I shouldn't have brought it up."

He sighed, feeling miserably guilty. "The thing is — there's something you should know." He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. "This was my fault."

Julie frowned. "Randy said she was hit by a drunk driver."

"We had a fight," he burst out. "I said some terrible things, and your mom was so angry that she decided to drive back to her house for the night. If I hadn't — she wouldn't have — " He couldn't finish.

Julie was silent for a long moment. "I think you're being ridiculous," she said finally. "What if I had a fight with her, and then I left in a huff and got hit by a car? Would you say that was _her_ fault?"

"Well — no," he admitted. "But — "

"Then how can you say it's yours?"

He shook his head. "I said _horrible_ things to her."

Julie placed a comforting hand on his arm. "A year or so ago, she and I had a massive argument about something really stupid, and I told her I wished she was dead."

He winced before he could stop himself.

Julie smiled deprecatingly. "Yeah," she said. "Not my finest moment." She shrugged. "But after I calmed down, I apologized, and she forgave me. That's what families do, Mr. Monk. Sometimes we hurt each other, and then we apologize and we forgive."

"Not my family," he muttered.

She snorted. "Your family isn't typical."

To his own surprise, he found he couldn't hold back a small smile. "You know, you sounded _exactly_ like your mom right then." Right down to the vocal inflection. It was oddly comforting.

Julie grinned. "Well, don't tell her I said so, but she actually makes a lot of sense. Most of the time."

"Yeah, she does."

She patted his arm again. "Listen, I'm going to call Grandpa and give him an update, okay?"

"Okay," Adrian replied, grateful she had thought of it. He was having trouble putting coherent thoughts together because he was so _tired_. He settled against the couch, leaning his head against its smooth, plush back, planning to rest his eyes for a few minutes. He was asleep instantly.


	11. Chapter 11

A touch on his arm woke him what seemed like seconds later. "Huh? What?" he said, jerking awake. A glance at the clock told him he'd been out cold for over two hours.

"Mr. Monk?" He recognized the nurse as the one who had been on duty when they'd been escorted up to the ICU. Her name badge said Bianca Thomson. "We've settled Ms. Teeger into her room. You can see her now, if you'd like."

"Yes," he said instantly, taking a moment to orient himself. Julie was sitting up on the couch across from his, yawning — apparently she'd been woken first.

Nurse Thomson led him and Julie into the ICU ward. "She tolerated the move well; her vital signs remained stable," she told them as she stopped outside of room 410. "But we'll keep her sedated for the next several hours. Now, remember. Ten minutes _max_. I'll be timing you."

They both nodded obediently, and she opened the door for them. Adrian entered first, with Julie following.

His heart nearly broke in two as he saw Natalie. She looked so vulnerable, her small form swallowed up in a large hospital bed. There was a thick plastic tube taped over her mouth, an IV dripping clear liquid in her arm, and wires coming out from under the neck of her hospital gown. Her chest and torso appeared bulky and unnatural under her gown due to bandages. She had a large, rectangular white bandage taped to the left side of her forehead as well. He could hear the rhythmic hiss of the ventilator and the steady beep of the heart monitor.

He approached the bed's left side and took her hand, very gently; it was covered in dozens of tiny scrapes, likely from broken glass from the window or windshield. "Oh, Natalie," he said, his voice hushed and faltering, brushing his hand lightly over her hair. There were tiny flecks of blood on her forehead and in her hair that hadn't quite gotten washed off.

Julie approached hesitantly from the other side of the bed. "Hi, Mom," she said softly, touching her mother's shoulder. "I'm here." Her lower lip trembled, but she heroically kept her composure.

Adrian had desperately wanted to see her, and in a way he was glad he could, but somehow it made it all worse to see the vibrant, feisty woman he knew looking so weak and fragile. He didn't dare talk, to her or to Julie, for fear he would break down. Instead, he held her hand and stroked her hair, hoping she could somehow sense that he was there, and that he loved her. And that he was so terribly sorry.

The nurse came to the door, tacitly signaling that their time was up. Still holding Natalie's hand, Adrian leaned over and brushed his lips over her hair. "I love you so much," he whispered to her before he straightened.

He and Julie silently filed out of the room, both of them turning at the door for one last look at her. The nurse escorted them back to the waiting room. Once inside, Julie's face crumpled and she started to sob. With herculean effort, Adrian kept his own tears at bay, and enfolded her in his arms.

"She's always been the strong one, you know?" Julie wept against his chest. "No matter how bad things got, she was always the strong one. But now, she looks so… so _broken_."

"I know," he said heavily. Despite his best efforts, a few tears escaped his eyes. "I know," he repeated, and took refuge in Dr. Bell's earlier words. "But right now, we have to be strong _for_ her."

Julie nodded, but continued to cry.

"Adrian?" said a voice from the doorway. He looked up and saw a very frightened Bobby Davenport. His face was gray and anxious, and his tan slacks and green polo shirt were stained and rumpled. "What's wrong? Did she get worse?" he asked urgently, crossing over to them. "Is she — "

"No, her condition hasn't changed," Adrian assured him, scrubbing his face with his sleeve to wipe away the tears that had fallen.

Julie, hearing her grandfather's voice, transferred herself to his arms. "We just saw her for the first time," she choked, burying her face in Bobby's chest.

"It was... difficult," Adrian said, his voice cracking on the last word. He had to turn away as he struggled to keep his self-control.

"I'll bet," the older man said grimly as he stroked Julie's hair. "We got here as soon as we could, but our car had a flat tire on the way and we had to wait for a tow truck."

"'We'?" Adrian asked warily.

Bobby nodded. "Peggy's just outside. She… didn't want to come in here without your permission."

Julie raised her head from her grandfather's chest. "Grandma's here?" she said, sniffling.

"May she come in?" Bobby asked him. "If not, I can assure you that we'll both understand. But it's your decision."

Remembering what Peggy Davenport had said to Natalie the last time they'd spoken, and how Natalie had cried, Adrian's first inclination was to refuse her entry. But Julie's hopeful face reminded him of what she had said earlier. _That's what families do. Sometimes we hurt each other, and then we apologize and we forgive._ If he could forgive Peggy for her cruel words, perhaps Natalie could forgive the horrible things he had said to her.

He nodded at Bobby, who immediately brightened. Julie wrapped her arms around herself, her face streaked with tears, as her grandfather opened the waiting room door and murmured to someone outside.

A moment later, Peggy Davenport entered — a very different Peggy Davenport than the one he remembered. Every other time he'd seen her, she'd been elegantly clothed and perfumed with perfect make-up. Today she was wearing khaki pants and a plain dark gray cardigan with a white shirt underneath. Her pants and shirt were both wrinkled, and the hems of her pant legs were damp and muddy. Her hair was mussed, her face held only touches of faded cosmetics, and her eyes were red-rimmed and tired. She looked like she'd been crying for hours, and, despite his resentment of her, he felt his heart soften.

Julie enveloped her in a hug. "Hi, Grandma," she whispered.

"Hello, darling," Peggy said, hugging her close.

She looked over at Adrian. "Hello, Mr. Monk," she said tentatively, her voice trembling.

"Mrs. Davenport," he said with stiff politeness, unable to infuse any warmth into his tone. It had been an exceedingly long night.

"How is she?" Peggy asked him, still clutching Julie to her breast.

"We just saw her for a few minutes. Her vital signs are stable. They're keeping her sedated for the next couple of hours," he replied.

"Do you think we could see her, too?" Bobby asked.

"I think so, but only for ten minutes. You can ask Nurse Thomson out there," he said, indicating the ICU main desk. He placed a warning hand on Bobby's arm. "She's on a ventilator for now, but only until she wakes up."

Bobby nodded his thanks and escorted his wife out the door. They returned a little over ten minutes later, both visibly shaken. Peggy had fresh tears on her cheeks, and was wiping them away with a tissue. "Are they sure she'll be all right?" Peggy was saying to her husband.

Julie moved to hug her grandmother. "Dr. Hector said it's amazing that Mom wasn't hurt more badly than she was."

Peggy looked at him then, hopefully, and he nodded.

"It could have been a lot worse," he confirmed.

"Who did this to her?" Peggy asked, her voice angry.

"A drunk driver. He ran a stop sign, and he—he hit her," he managed, hanging on to his composure by a few slippery threads.

"I want him punished," Peggy announced, visibly shaking. "I want him locked up for the rest of his miserable life. I want—" She broke off, weeping. Bobby patted her arm, looking helpless.

Adrian felt helpless too. He'd reached his breaking point and felt the situation was spinning out of control. Julie stood, petrified, not knowing what to do.

The door opened once again, and this time Dr. Bell entered, followed by Dr. Hector. He took in the situation with a practiced eye, noting the familiar expression of panic on Adrian's face. "Hello, Adrian," he said, using his most calming tone. "Nurse Thomson said you were still here."

"Dr. Bell," Adrian said, relaxing slightly. _Thank God you've come_ , his eyes telegraphed.

"You must be Natalie's parents," Dr. Bell said smoothly, moving over to Bobby and Peggy. "I'm Dr. Neven Bell, a friend of Adrian's."

"Are you Natalie's doctor?" Peggy sniffed.

"No, but this is my wife, Dr. Hector, and she assisted in Natalie's surgery," he said, as Dr. Hector moved forward to greet them.

As Dr. Hector talked to the Davenports, Dr. Bell guided Adrian over to the couch to sit down. "How are you holding up?" he asked quietly.

Adrian shook his head. "I don't think I can take much more," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm trying to be strong for her, like you said, but—"

"It's all right," Dr. Bell said, patting his arm. "You've had a very strenuous night. Why don't we take you back to your apartment so you can get some rest, and decompress a little?"

Frowning, Adrian glanced at the door. "I don't know if I should leave Natalie."

"Anna says she's going to be sedated for some time yet, and they're not allowing any more visitors right now anyway. You could go home, take a nap, shower and change clothes, maybe get something to eat," Dr. Bell suggested. "Then you can come back here, later, and be with her."

"What about Julie?" he asked, and Dr. Bell was both touched and impressed by his concern.

"I'm sure she'll want to stay with her grandparents for a while," he answered. "Remember, Adrian, you need to take care of yourself before you can take care of Natalie and Julie. You'll be no use to them if you're too tired and frazzled to function."

Adrian hesitated, but finally nodded his agreement. Dr. Bell took his arm and guided him to where Dr. Hector, Julie, and the Davenports were standing. "I'm going to take Adrian to his apartment so he can get some rest," he told them.

"Excellent idea," Dr. Hector said, smiling. "I was just suggesting that Mr. and Mrs. Davenport get some rest as well."

"We've reserved a suite at the Fairmont if you need us," Bobby told Adrian, referring to a hotel a few miles from the hospital. "We'll take Julie with us, and meet you back here later."

He nodded dumbly, glad Julie would be taken care of. "Did you stay here all night, too?" he asked Dr. Bell as they left the waiting room.

"Anna let me use the staff call room," he said smiling at his wife. "I took a brief nap there. Her shift ended at six a.m. so I thought we'd go home together, since I took a cab to the hospital after Mrs. Stottlemeyer called me."

"Do you often work nights?" Adrian asked her. Dr. Hector was the Chief of Emergency Medicine at the hospital, and he'd assumed that seniority allowed her to work whatever hours she chose.

"Not commonly, but an unusually high number of ER staff have been out with the flu recently, so I've pitched in to cover shifts where I can," Dr. Hector answered. "In hindsight, that's a very good thing, because it meant I had just come on duty when Natalie was brought in."

"Was she — in pain?" he asked, almost afraid of the answer.

"She was unconscious, Adrian," she said gently. "The EMT's report said that she was unconscious when they extracted her from the wreckage, as well." She didn't mention that the report had also said bystanders had heard screaming coming from her car immediately after the crash. He'd no doubt find out soon enough.

Adrian didn't speak the rest of the trip home, other to thank Drs. Bell and Hector when they dropped him off. As he unlocked his door — grateful his keys had been in his coat when he grabbed it, otherwise he would have been locked out — he felt as though a hundred years had passed in the last eight hours. His apartment seemed oddly, eerily silent. He hung up his coat, leaving his keys in the pocket, and stood in the hallway for a moment, trying to decide whether to sleep first or eat first.

 _Sleep_ , he decided, shuffling toward his bedroom. Eating seemed like a monumentally tiring task at the moment.

When he entered his bedroom, a sudden memory struck him — the first time he and Natalie had shared the bed. She'd been sleeping on the couch, as they hadn't yet begun their relationship, and she had suffered a vicious nightmare. He'd brought her to his bed to comfort her, and he'd drifted off to sleep with her in his arms, feeling whole for the first time since Trudy had died.

The floodgates opened, and all the terror and sorrow he'd kept contained throughout the long night now spilled out in violent, wracking sobs that shook his whole body. He collapsed onto the bed, pain and regret washing over him in waves as he cried. When all his emotion was finally spent, he fell heavily into sleep.


	12. Chapter 12

Adrian slept deeply for four straight hours but woke abruptly to the sound of someone knocking at his front door. He panicked instantly, his mind jumping to the worst case scenario – Natalie had taken a turn for the worse and someone was coming to get him. He scrambled out of bed and to the door, frantically yanking it open.

He blinked at the petite Korean woman, dressed in a stylish light blue suit and holding a large blue floral-patterned tote bag at her side, standing on the doorstep.

"Adrian!" she gasped at the sight of him, dropping her bag in her shock. "Are you all right?"

"Cassandra," he said, his pulse beginning to slow down. Their wedding coordinator. "Did — did we have an appointment?" He couldn't seem to get his brain to function enough to flip through his mental calendar.

"Ten-thirty," she confirmed, eyeing him with obvious concern. Every other time she'd met him, he'd been immaculately dressed and groomed. This man had rumpled clothing, an unshaven face, and dark circles under his red-rimmed, bloodshot eyes. "I was just about to leave — I thought maybe I'd gotten it wrong and we were meeting at Natalie's house instead, but she didn't answer her phone…" She trailed off, gazing at him with worry in her eyes.

"I — " He shook his head, trying to clear some of the cobwebs from his mind. "I'm sorry, I forgot. Natalie — " He choked slightly over the words. "Natalie was in a car accident last night. She was hit by a drunk driver."

"Oh my God!" Cassandra exclaimed in horror. "Is she — "

"She's hurt, but she's alive," he said, feeling a rush of relief himself when he remembered that fact. Natalie was alive, and she was going to be fine… eventually. "I'm sorry I didn't call, I got back here around six-thirty this morning and I just fell asleep right away."

"No apologies necessary, considering the circumstances," Cassandra said, picking up her bag from the ground. "I'm so sorry I woke you. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I don't — " He stopped, suddenly remembering the wedding detritus on his coffee table. "Actually, yes." He opened the door wider and ushered her inside, gesturing toward the living room. "Could you pack up her wedding things and just — keep them for a while? I have no idea if — " He searched for what to say. "I don't know what's going to happen," he finished lamely.

"Of course," Cassandra said, moving into the room. She began stacking the various papers with practiced efficiency. "I'll call the printer and postpone the invitations," she said as she worked. "You can notify me in a few weeks if we need to cancel altogether."

"I will," he said with relief.

"I'll keep all the other reservations in place for now," she said, carefully tucking Natalie's binder into her tote bag. "You just let me know once you've had a chance to make any decisions."

"I appreciate it."

"How badly is she hurt?" Cassandra asked anxiously, biting her lower lip. Adrian remembered how well the two of them had hit it off, despite their twelve-year age difference. They'd chattered and giggled together like sisters.

"It could have been worse," he said, running a hand over his hair, "but it's not very good. She has two cracked ribs and two broken ribs, and one of her lungs collapsed. She had her spleen removed, and there was internal bleeding, but her doctor says that she's stable and should make a full recovery. It's going to take time, though."

Cassandra's face softened with relief. "So no head or spinal injuries, or anything like that? Thank God."

"Yeah," he agreed somberly.

She eyed him with sympathy. "Are you _sure_ there isn't anything else I can do? You look wrecked. Can I help you back to bed?"

"No, I can't sleep now," he said. He was wide awake after being so panicked. "I'm just going to eat something, and — "

"That I _can_ help with," she said, brightening. "Why don't you grab a shower while I make you some breakfast?"

"That's really not necessary," he began. "I can — "

" _Please_ let me help, Adrian," she interrupted. "For Natalie's sake."

"I — " He shrugged helplessly, too weary to think of a coherent argument. "All right, I guess."

Despite the interrupted sleep, he felt amazingly more refreshed after he'd showered, shaved, and changed into fresh clothing. The delicious smells emanating from the kitchen were making him faint with hunger. He hadn't had a single thing to eat or drink since — he tried to remember. Supper with Natalie, around six o'clock last night. It seemed like years ago.

"Sit down," Cassandra said cheerfully when he entered the kitchen. "It's all ready."

He stared in disbelief at the three plates she set before him. One egg, over-hard, cooked in a perfect circle with the yolk dead center, two strips of bacon, and two pieces of toast with jam. Finally, she sat down a glass of orange juice.

"How did you — " he asked, feeling ridiculously pleased.

"Natalie told me about your favorite breakfast when we were discussing the wedding brunch, remember?" she said. "You'll need to get more eggs, though — it took me four tries to get that one cooked right."

"I don't know what to say," he said, overwhelmed. "Except… thank you."

"It's my pleasure," she said, hefting her tote bag. "I'm going to dash, but you call me if you think of _anything_ I can do, all right? And let me know when Natalie is well enough for phone calls."

"I will," he promised. "Thanks again, Cassandra."

After he'd eaten the excellent breakfast and washed the dishes, he called the hospital for an update. Natalie's condition was the same as it had been when he'd left, he was told by the nurse on duty. Her vital signs had remained stable throughout the morning, and they expected the sedative to start wearing off this afternoon. She promised to call him if anything changed.

He'd just hung up the phone when it rang again.

"Hey, I didn't wake you, did I?" Leland Stottlemeyer said after he answered.

"No, I was up," Adrian said.

"Did you get any sleep?"

"About four hours."

"Have you eaten?"

"I just finished breakfast."

"Oh." His friend sounded surprised. "Good. You need your strength." He paused. "I, uh, hear the Davenports showed up at the hospital early this morning."

 _Someone's been talking to Dr. Bell_ , Adrian thought. "Yes. They took Julie back to their hotel."

"Did everything… go okay?" Leland asked cautiously.

"As well as can be expected, I guess," he said, rubbing his forehead. "I didn't throw her mother out, if that's what you were wondering."

"I assumed she was at least civil, given that Julie left with them," Leland said. "Listen, I thought I'd call and see if you wanted a ride to the hospital."

"I do, but I need your help with something first," Adrian said. When the nurse had promised to call him if anything changed, he'd realized he wasn't reachable unless he was home. "I want to get a cell phone."

There was a full three seconds of silence before Leland repeated, " _You_ want to get a cell phone?"

"I need the hospital to be able to reach me no matter where I am, just in case," he explained. "Can you help me?"

"Of course," Leland said, getting over his surprise. If anything good was going to come out of this situation, it was that Monk was finally going to be dragged kicking and screaming into the twenty-first century.

They were at the cell phone store, waiting for his new phone to be set up, when Adrian dropped another bomb. "I need to buy a car," he said, frowning.

"Right now?" Leland asked, taken aback.

"Not right this minute, but soon. I can't keep depending on other people for rides," he mused. "And it's too expensive — and repulsive — to take cabs everywhere."

"Do you… think you can handle driving?" Leland asked cautiously. He knew that even when Trudy was alive, Monk had driven as little as possible.

Adrian shrugged. "I'm going to _have_ to handle it. Natalie's not going to be able to drive for weeks, maybe months."

Leland slapped his back gently. "I'm proud of you, buddy. You're really stepping up to the plate here, you know that?"

"It's for Natalie," he said simply.

The first person he called on his new cell phone was Julie, who promised to show him the ropes and help him program all the numbers he needed. "Grandma and Grandpa and I were just heading out for a quick lunch," she mentioned. "Do you want to come with?"

"Thanks, but I've already eaten. I'll see you at the hospital in a little while."

On the way to the hospital, Adrian asked Leland if he'd found out any more about the drunk driver who'd hit Natalie.

"As a matter of fact…" Leland said. "He gave his name as Joe Smith, but imagine the surprise of the arresting officers when they discovered that there was a BOLO out on a guy matching his description, plus one on the truck."

"For what?" Adrian asked.

"For suspicion of murder," Leland said. "Remember the body you helped identify right after Valentine's Day?"

The case they'd caught morning after their engagement. "He's the guy?" he said incredulously. "The fire extinguisher guy?"

"He's the guy," Leland confirmed. "He's also the guy who drank the better part of a case of beer and then had the bright idea to go for a joyride. His real name is Jerry Horn. It turns out he'd been hiding in Nevada for the last month, and just came back to San Francisco a few days ago, hoping to sneak over and see his mother." He shook his head. "Using the same truck he'd stolen from the co-worker he killed. He didn't even change the plates. This guy is not the sharpest knife in the drawer."

"He's going down," Adrian said grimly. He would make sure of it, even if it meant calling in every favor he was owed – and he was owed many.

"Gee, you think?" Leland said sarcastically. "He's already going to be charged with felony DUI, second degree murder, and grand theft auto, plus a few lesser charges. He _might_ get the murder charge down to voluntary manslaughter, but even so he's probably going to spend the rest of his life in a cell. I talked to the district attorney earlier this morning, and boy, is he _pissed_. He told me he's personally taking the case, and pushing for the maximum penalties, with no plea deals."

"Really?" Adrian said, surprised. That was unusual. The D.A. usually tried to negotiate plea deals whenever possible to save the taxpayers the time and expense of a trial. "Why?"

"He likes Natalie," Leland shrugged. "Said he always enjoys talking to her when you're testifying for a case, and he was really impressed at how she handled Wally Dougal. Plus, he was hoping to be invited to the wedding."

"He was on the guest list," Adrian admitted.

"You should come by the division when you have time and talk to some of my officers," Leland told him as he pulled into the hospital parking lot and stopped in front of the main entrance. "They've all been worried sick about her. And they wanted me to tell you that you're both in their thoughts and prayers and all that other stuff."

Adrian smiled. "Tell them I said thank you," he said, getting out of the car. "Do you need to get back?"

"Actually, I do," he said. "Randy's holding down the fort for now, although he said he might go by the hospital later. I'll try to come by after my shift, too, but I want to make sure we nail this drunken putz to the wall."

"I'll see you later, then. Thanks for the ride, and for the help with the phone thing."

"Anytime, pal," Leland said, and drove off.

He made his way up to the ICU and checked in with the nurse. "No change," she told him. "The doctor will be in to check on her soon, and then he'll want to talk to you, but you can go sit with her once he's done."

Immensely cheered by this, Adrian made sure the desk had his new number, and settled into the waiting room to study the instruction manual for his phone. He wondered absently if his brother knew the author, and then realized with a jolt that he'd completely forgotten to call Ambrose and tell him what had happened.

He was still on the phone with his brother when Julie and the Davenports arrived. "Ambrose, Julie's here with her grandparents. I need to go."

"You'll call me tonight and tell me how she's doing, won't you?" Ambrose demanded anxiously.

"Of course I will. I'll talk to you later." He ended the call and rose to greet Julie.

"You look better," she declared, studying his face. "Were you able to get any sleep?"

"About four hours. How about you?"

"The same," she shrugged. "Hey, listen, I thought of something on the way over. I should call Cassandra and tell her what happened, but I don't have her number. Do you — "

"There's no need," he interrupted. "She came by my apartment this morning — I'd forgotten we had an appointment. I had her take Natalie's binder and all of the other wedding stuff, for safekeeping."

"Oh, good idea," she said approvingly.

"Who's Cassandra?" Peggy Davenport asked.

"Their wedding coordinator," Julie said.

Peggy's eyebrows lifted. " _Natalie_ hired a wedding coordinator?"

"She's from the Four Seasons," Julie explained.

Her eyebrows lifted higher. "The _Four Seasons_? But how on earth could they afford — " She stopped, and had the grace to look abashed.

Adrian glanced at Bobby, who cleared his throat. "I gave them money for the wedding, Peggy," he confessed.

"Oh, I see," Peggy said, clearly taken aback.

There was a long, awkward silence, and then Peggy turned to her granddaughter. "Julie, be a dear and go get me a cup of coffee from the cafeteria, would you? I can't abide the swill from these vending contraptions. Bobby, maybe you could go with her?"

Julie and her grandfather exchanged a knowing glance. "Sure, Grandma," Julie said.

Once they were alone, Peggy took a deep breath. "Mr. Monk, I… I want to thank you for allowing me to be here," she said, lifting her chin to look him in the eye. "Given my recent behavior towards you and Natalie, you were well within your rights to keep me out. I wouldn't have blamed you if you had."

He nodded in acknowledgement and waited, sensing she had more to say.

"And I owe you an apology," she continued. "I was wrong to act the way I did, and I was wrong to say the things I did. I'm very sorry."

"I appreciate that, Mrs. Davenport — " he began.

"Peggy," she interrupted.

"Peggy," he repeated. "I accept your apology, as long as you're planning to apologize to Natalie as well."

She nodded, visibly moved. "As soon as I can," she said, her voice tight with emotion. "I thought I was going to lose her, and I — " She swallowed hard, and sighed, dropping down on the couch. "Well. I have to admit, that was easier than I thought it would be. I wasn't anticipating that you would forgive me quite so willingly. I expected to grovel quite a bit."

He sat down beside her. "Ordinarily, I might not have forgiven you so easily, but the truth is… I owe Natalie an apology, too."

"What for?" she asked.

"She was supposed to stay at my apartment last night, but we had a terrible argument," he said glumly, staring down at his clasped hands. "I let my temper get the best of me, said some awful things to her, and she left to spend the night at her house. So because I was an idiot, she happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Oh dear," Peggy said softly.

He sighed. "At any rate, I can hardly refuse to forgive you for getting angry and saying things you regret when I'm in the exact same situation."

She patted his knee in a comforting gesture. "Mr. Monk — "

"Adrian," he corrected.

"Adrian," she amended, "I'm sure she'll be as gracious to you as you have been to me. She's a very forgiving person, you know."

He smiled at that, thinking of all the idiotic things he'd said and done to Natalie during their time together, as well as all of the times she'd forgiven him — even when he hadn't realized he'd needed forgiveness. "I know she is. But I'm prepared to grovel, just in case."

Julie came back just then, along with Bobby, both of them holding steaming cups in each hand. She brightened at the sight of them sitting together and smiling at one another. "I have coffee," she announced happily. "And hot chocolate for me, and chamomile tea for you, Mr. Monk."

He accepted it gratefully. "You know, Julie," he said, "considering I'm marrying your mother, I think you could start calling me by my first name."

She grinned saucily at him. "Perhaps 'Wicked Stepfather' would be more appropriate."

"A bit cumbersome, though, don't you think?" Bobby asked, chuckling.

"True," Julie said, taking a sip of her hot chocolate. "Let's stick with Adrian."


	13. Chapter 13

Dr. Samuel Harmon, Natalie's primary surgeon, came in shortly after and introduced himself. He was a tall, robust man with a shock of thick white hair and piercing green eyes. "Ah, the famous detective, Mr. Monk. I've heard a lot about you," he said, shaking Adrian's hand. He didn't seem fazed when Adrian pulled a wipe from the package in his pocket, which indicated he had indeed heard a lot about him. "My colleague, Dr. Hector, is a big fan."

"At the moment," Adrian said, "I'm a big fan of yours. Dr. Hector said you're the best thoracic surgeon in California."

He smiled modestly. "Perhaps one of them."

He looked around, including Julie and the Davenports in the conversation. "I wanted to let you know that I'm very pleased with Natalie's progress so far," he informed them. "She's tolerated the stress of both her injuries and the surgery remarkably well. I expect her to regain consciousness sometime this afternoon, and I've instructed the nurses to page me the moment she wakes so that we can remove the ventilator. Once we're confident she can manage without it — and I'm not expecting otherwise — we'll move her out if the ICU and into a standard room."

"How long does she need to be here? In the hospital, I mean?" Bobby Davenport asked.

"We'll need to monitor her condition carefully over the next several days, but, barring any complications, we'll release her from the hospital next week, with prescribed bed rest for two, perhaps three weeks thereafter, depending on her progress, and limited activity for the following six to eight weeks," Dr. Harmon replied.

He looked at Adrian. "I recommend hiring a home health nurse during the period she's on bed rest, longer if possible. It can be immensely stressful for the primary caregiver to shoulder the burden themselves. And while family can certainly be helpful in these situations," he said, smiling at Julie, "a trained professional who can monitor her care and condition would be optimal."

Adrian nodded. If Natalie needed a nurse, then he would find her one. It was as simple as that. "Can I stay with her now?"

He nodded. "Of course. Visiting hours are eleven a.m. to eight p.m., and you're all welcome to stay with her until the nurses kick you out." His eyes twinkled. "Try not to have too many people in the room at once, though. Quiet and rest are the best healers, as Dr. Hector likes to say."

He started to shake Adrian's hand again, then thought better of it and shook Bobby Davenport's instead. "If you have any questions or concerns, have the nurses page me, or you can call my pager or my office line." He gave Adrian a business card.

"Thank you, Doctor," Adrian said, tucking it carefully away.

He nodded at them and left the room.

"Why don't you go and sit with her for a while, Adrian?" Bobby said. "We can take turns so we don't crowd the room."

He nodded gratefully. "All right. I'll let you know if anything changes."

Once in Natalie's room, he pulled a chair to her bedside and sat down. She looked much the same as she had the night before, fragile and broken. Her hand was resting limply on the bedspread, and after he sat down he took it into his own, gingerly, being careful not to disturb her IV.

He sat with her for over an hour, sometimes talking, sometimes just remaining silent and holding her hand. He'd begun to think that he should get up, go see if Julie wanted to sit with her mother for a while, when a slight motion from the bed caught his attention. Had her eyelids moved? He leaned forward, holding his breath and watching her closely, and was rewarded by seeing her lashes flicker weakly. She made a small sound, almost like a moan, but so soft it was barely audible.

"Natalie?" he said, feeling her hand tremble in his. "It's Adrian. Can you hear me? Open your eyes, Natalie, and look at me. I'm right here with you." He talked to her encouragingly, watching her eyelids flutter each time he spoke. At last, she opened her eyes fully, blinking a few times before focusing her gaze on his face.

Adrian was so elated he felt he'd burst from it. "Hi, sweetheart," he said, gently stroking her hair away from her face. "Welcome back. I'm so happy to see you."

He could tell from her expression that she was extremely disoriented. "You were in an accident," he told her, "and you're in the hospital. But you're going to be _fine_. I promise."

Her hand — the one he wasn't holding — lifted feebly and she touched the tube at her mouth, her confused expression changing to one of panic. She made a small sound of distress. "It's a ventilator, to help you breathe," he told her, making his voice as soothing as he could. "I'm going to have the doctor paged so he can take it out."

Dr. Harmon arrived remarkably quickly after he was summoned by the nurse on duty, and his face was wreathed in smiles as he bent over Natalie and introduced himself. "We're going to remove this ventilator tube so you can breathe on your own, all right?" he said kindly. "Mr. Monk, if you could, please wait over by the window so the nurses and I have room to work."

Reluctantly, he released her hand and retreated to where the doctor had indicated. He watched, a trifle fearfully, as the doctor slowly and gently eased the tube up out of her throat, with the nurses suctioning fluid as he did so. "There we are," the doctor said as it came completely out of her mouth.

Natalie coughed weakly, wincing in pain.

"Your throat is going to be sore for a little while, but it should pass," the doctor said gently. "Try not to move too much; your ribs have been injured, and you have a surgical incision in your chest, so you need to stay as still as possible."

Dr. Harmon turned to Adrian and nodded, and he rushed back to Natalie's side, taking her hand.

Natalie lay against the pillow, breathing heavily — a little _too_ heavily, it seemed to Adrian – and wheezing slightly. Dr. Harmon took out a stethoscope and listened to her lungs for a few minutes, then frowned and glanced at one of her monitors. He turned to a nurse and spoke rapidly and quietly; Adrian caught the phrase "supplemental oxygen."

The nurse he'd spoken to swiftly unwrapped some narrow plastic tubing from its sterile packaging and attached it to a flowmeter on the wall above Natalie's bed. "We're just going to give you some oxygen to help you breathe a little easier, all right?" Dr. Harmon said. He took the nasal cannula that the nurse handed to him and gently inserted it into Natalie's nostrils, then nodded at the nurse to turn on the flow of oxygen as he adjusted the tubes over her ears.

"There we are," he said, as the strain on her face began to fade. Her breathing eased off, and the doctor nodded as he listened to her lungs with the stethoscope again. "That's the ticket. We'll keep you on that oxygen for a little while, just to help out."

He removed the stethoscope's prongs from his ears, but left it hanging around his neck, and took a small flashlight from his breast pocket. "I'm going to look at your pupils now, just to make sure everything looks good." He looked at one, then the other, and nodded in satisfaction. "Very nice. You have lovely eyes, my dear." He smiled and patted her hand. "Now, let's try a little bit of talking, shall we? Do you know where you are?"

She blinked twice, and then said, "Hospital." Her voice was weak and scratchy, but Adrian felt like turning cartwheels at the sound of it all the same.

Dr. Harmon smiled encouragingly. "That's right." He placed a hand on Adrian's shoulder. "And who is this handsome fellow at your bedside?"

Her gaze tracked to him, and it seemed like she tried to smile but couldn't quite manage it. "Adrian," she rasped. He swallowed the lump in his throat but was unable to stop tears from springing to his eyes as he patted her hand.

"Good," the doctor said approvingly. He checked something on her IV. "Other than your sore throat, are you in any pain right now?" he asked.

"No," she said, following his movements with her eyes.

"Is there anything we can get you?"

Her brow furrowed for a moment. "Julie?"

Adrian smiled. "I'll go get her for you," he said. "She wants to see you too. I'll be right back, okay?" She nodded feebly, and he felt as though he were floating on air as he walked as fast as he could to the waiting room.

"She's awake!" he burst out as he opened the door. Bobby, Peggy, and Julie alternately sprang from their seats at his announcement, excitement on their faces.

"The doctor removed the ventilator already," Adrian said, nearly breathless from exhilaration. "She was having a little trouble breathing at first so he put her on oxygen, and that seemed to help. She's asking for Julie."

"She is?" Julie's face lit up with delight.

"Go on," Adrian said, steering her toward the doorway. "Go see her." Julie rushed out.

Bobby and Peggy were hugging one another in their joy. When they pulled him into the hug as well, he didn't mind at all. He was too happy and relieved to think about anything else. "She said my name," he said, nearly babbling but not caring. "She knows where she is."

"Wonderful news," Bobby said, smiling broadly. "Can we see her?"

"I don't see why not," Adrian said, "although we'll want to make sure we don't overwhelm her. She's pretty disoriented at the moment."

"Why don't you go back to her room," Bobby suggested, "and you can send Julie out to get us once she's ready."

Peggy laid a hand on his arm. "Ask her _if_ she wants to see me, first," she said quietly. "If not, I'll stay back here."

He nodded in acknowledgement and hurried back to Natalie's room. Dr. Harmon was still there, writing something in her chart. Julie was perched in the chair Adrian had vacated, holding her mother's hand and speaking softly.

"Ah, there you are," Dr. Harmon said, spotting him in the doorway as he tucked Natalie's chart away. "I'm going to keep her on oxygen for the next twenty-four hours," he told Adrian in a low voice. "Due to her initial breathing difficulty, she'll spend the night in the ICU, just in case, and if she does well we'll move her to a standard room tomorrow."

He glanced over at Julie and smiled. "Visitors are fine, but try to keep it to one or two people at a time for now, just to make it easier for her. The sedative is still wearing off, so don't be alarmed if she's occasionally confused or drifts in and out of sleep. And be sure to let the nurse know if it seems like she's in pain — sometimes it takes trial and error to get the right dosage of pain medication."

"I will," he promised.

Dr. Harmon patted him on the arm. "I'll be back to check on her tomorrow morning."

After the doctor had gone, Adrian pulled up a chair to the other side of the bed, opposite Julie. "Mom, Adrian's back," Julie told her.

Natalie slowly turned her head to look at him. "Hey," she said weakly.

"Hey," he said gently. "I love you."

She managed a smile — it was tiny, and tremulous, but it was there. "Love you," she said, her voice barely a whisper. She closed her eyes for a moment, and then opened them again, as if summoning her strength. "Julie said — my parents?"

"Yes," he answered, stroking her hair. "Your father and mother are both here. They're in the waiting room right now. They'd like to see you, if you're feeling up to it."

"Mom too?" she asked.

"Yeah," he confirmed. "Is it okay if she comes in?"

Natalie nodded. Julie smiled, and patted her mother's hand. "I'll go get them," she said. She returned a few minutes later with Peggy and Bobby in tow. Adrian moved away from the bed so that they could approach. He hovered in the doorway with Julie, unwilling to leave Natalie for long.

"Hi, Kitten," Bobby said. He kissed Natalie's forehead and took her hand.

"Hello, darling," Peggy said. She smoothed a hand over Natalie's hair.

They talked to her quietly for a few minutes, and then Natalie's eyelids began to droop. She was asleep when Peggy and Bobby crept away from her bedside and out the door.

They took turns staying with her for the rest of the day and into the evening. True to what Dr. Harmon had said, she drifted in and out of sleep, and was occasionally confused during her periods of consciousness. Once, she had asked Julie if Mitch was coming. "Not right now," Julie had answered cryptically, but her mother had drifted off again.

Visiting hours ended at eight o'clock that evening, and Adrian was forced to kiss her goodnight. He hated leaving her, but the nurses assured him that she'd be in good hands. He promised her he'd return at the stroke of eleven the next morning, once visiting hours resumed.


	14. Chapter 14

_Author's Note: Just a reminder that in my version of events,_ Mr. Monk and the End _never happened (but everything up to and including_ Mr. Monk and the Badge _did)._

* * *

The hospital called Adrian the next morning, around nine, to tell him that Dr. Harmon had signed off on Natalie being moved from the ICU to a standard room slightly earlier than originally planned — they needed her room for another patient. She had been relocated to room 3007 in the main hospital building.

He called the Davenports and Julie to let them know, and decided to take a cab to the hospital instead of bothering Leland for another ride. He really needed to get a car, the sooner the better.

While in the cab, he frowned, realizing that there was probably insurance paperwork that would need to be done for Natalie's wrecked vehicle. Her insurance cards had been in her purse, which had been in the car with her during the crash, and God knew where it was now. Although maybe she had other copies at home, or at least a statement with insurance information on it. He would have to go by her house soon.

He frowned again. This was ridiculous. They needed have a home that was _theirs_ , not _his_ apartment and _her_ house, especially now that she was going to be bedridden for several weeks. He made a mental note to talk to his landlord later. And he had to remember to call the staffing agency – the same one he'd used the last time he'd been looking for an assistant – so he could start interviewing home health nurses. His to-do list was growing by the second, but he put it out of his mind for the present, determined to focus solely on Natalie for the next few hours.

Once at the hospital, he stopped by the gift shop to buy Natalie some flowers before going up to her new room. He wanted something pretty for her to look at, and settled on multicolored zinnias in a green glass vase. They were bright and cheerful, which reminded him of her. As an added bonus, there were ten of them in the vase.

The minute he approached the front desk on Natalie's floor, the nurse on duty smiled at him. "You must be Mr. Monk," she said cheerfully. "I remember seeing your picture with Natalie in the _Dispatch_ last month. It's almost like having a celebrity in the ward. She's such a dear."

He smiled politely, deciding to play nice in Natalie's best interest. "Thank you, Nurse, um, Kelley," he said, stealing a glance at her name badge. "How is she today?"

"She's doing very well. Bianca — Nurse Thomson — said she had a good night in the ICU. After she got here this morning, we took a short walk, so she's resting now."

"So soon?" he asked, surprised.

"Oh, yes. These days we try to get patients up and walking as soon as possible after surgery. Helps reduce blood clots, bed sores, that sort of thing. We took a nice stroll down the hall, and then I tucked her back into bed and gave her a strawberry protein shake." She glanced at the clock. "It's a few minutes before visiting hours officially begin, but why don't you go on in." She winked at him. "Down the hall, fifth door on the left."

"Thank you," he said, already walking in the direction she'd indicated.

When he found her room, he lightly tapped on the door, and then opened it. Natalie was propped up against several pillows, holding a plastic cup half-full of pink liquid and sipping from a straw. The nasal cannula was still in place, but her eyes were clear and alert, not groggy and confused as they'd been yesterday, when she turned her head toward the door.

"Hi," he said, closing the door behind him.

"Hi." Her voice was still weak, but much less scratchy than it had been the previous day. She eyed the flowers in his hand. "Is it Secretary's Day already?"

His heart gave a leap. Dry wit, sarcastic humor – his Natalie was back. "I tried to find some flowers as pretty as you, but they didn't have any that came close, so these will have to do."

She snorted softly. "I'm hardly looking my best at the moment."

That was true, aesthetically, he had to concede. In addition to the large bandage on her forehead, she had several cuts and scratches on her cheeks, as well as some bruising on her face. More scrapes and bruises mottled her arms and throat, and there were probably more hidden beneath the hospital gown and blankets. But she was alive, and conscious, and she was going to stay that way – and to him, that made her the most gorgeous woman in the world.

He carefully placed the flowers on a counter near her bed, taking time to center them neatly, and then leaned down to gingerly kiss her cheek. "I think you look beautiful."

"Liar," she said, but she was smiling. "They're very pretty. Thank you."

"How are you feeling?" he asked, pulling a chair to the side of her bed so he could sit down.

"I'm tired," she admitted. "I walked all the way down the hall earlier. But I'm not in pain, if that's what you're wondering. They have me on some _really_ nice drugs." She took another sip of her protein shake.

"That's good to hear." Despite her claim that she wasn't in pain, Adrian noticed that she took care not to move any more than was absolutely necessary, and occasionally her fingers plucked restlessly at the blankets.

"Dr. Harmon said they'll take this thing off —" she touched the nasal cannula "— later this afternoon to see if I can manage without it."

"That's good, too." He took her hand. "Natalie, do you remember what happened?" he asked, very gently.

Her brow furrowed. "I remember driving away from your apartment, but I don't remember the crash."

This, he knew, wasn't uncommon. The memory might return, or it might not. "Do you remember _why_ you left my apartment?"

She considered this while sipping her drink. "I seem to recall that you were being an asshole," she said at last, slanting her gaze in his direction.

He winced, but he had to admit the description was apt. "Of epic proportions," he agreed. "I was trying to call you so I could apologize when Leland came and told me about the accident."

"Adrian – " she began, but he cut her off gently.

"I was an idiot, and I treated you horribly," he said. "You were right, about all of it – and I'm not just saying that because you've been hurt. I'd already come to the conclusion that you were right before I even knew there'd been an accident. But I wanted to tell you how incredibly sorry I am for what I said and how I behaved just as soon as I could."

She squeezed his hand. "You were grieving for Trudy, and that's why you lashed out at me," she said simply. "I should have realized that and dropped the subject, or gone out for a walk or something instead of driving off." She hesitated for a moment. "Adrian, did I… was it my fault?"

He looked puzzled. "The fight? Absolutely not, I – "

"Not the fight," she interrupted. "The… the crash."

"What? No!" he exclaimed, genuinely shocked. Belatedly, he realized that no one had told her the details of the accident yet, only that there had been one. "Sweetheart, you were hit by a drunk driver. He ran a stop sign and plowed into you at an intersection."

"Oh." She looked disturbed, yet relieved. "I thought… I remember being really upset and crying while I was driving away from your place, so I didn't know if – "

"It _wasn't_ your fault," he said firmly, feeling wretchedly guilty that she'd been in such a state when she'd left. "The driver of the truck that hit you blew a blood alcohol level of .18 at the scene. He's in jail now, and he's going to stay there for a long time."

"He wasn't hurt?"

Adrian shook his head. "Just cuts and bruises, according to Leland." He decided to omit the other information about Jerry Horn's crimes for now – he didn't want to overwhelm her with too many details at once.

Deciding to change the subject, he asked, "So, do you forgive me for being an epic asshole?"

She smiled. "Of course I do."

Relief coursed through him as he kissed her lips, very gently, careful not to disturb the nasal cannula. "Still want to marry me?"

"Absolutely." Her smile faded, then, and she glanced down at her unadorned left hand. "Did my ring get lost?"

"Oh!" He dug in his pocket. He'd been carrying her ring with him like a good-luck charm ever since that night in the ER. "Dr. Hector took it off of you in the emergency room. She wanted to make sure nothing happened to it."

He showed her the little plastic bag that held her engagement ring, and her smile bloomed again. "That was nice of her." She looked wistfully at her hand again. "I probably shouldn't wear it while I'm in here."

"Probably not. Why don't I keep it for you until you get home?" he suggested, and, at her nod, put it safely back into his pocket.

"Have you talked to Cassandra?" she asked.

He nodded. "She came by my apartment yesterday morning."

"We had an appointment," Natalie remembered. "About the invitations."

"I had her take all of your wedding stuff with her, for now. Just for safekeeping." He patted her hand.

"I suppose we'll have to reschedule everything," she said, looking close to tears.

He thought so, too, but he couldn't bear seeing her so disappointed. "She's postponing the printing date for the invitations, but we're leaving all the other reservations in place for the time being."

Hope flashed in her eyes. "Do you think we – "

"I think it's still too soon to make any decisions," he said, gently. "Let's wait until you're home and we have a better idea of how things will be long-term, all right?"

She nodded reluctantly.

There was a light tap on the door; it opened to reveal Julie, carrying a vase of flowers, followed by Bobby and Peggy. "Hey, is this is a private party or can anyone join in?" Julie asked.

"The more, the merrier," Natalie said, smiling at her daughter.

Julie laughed as she spied the zinnias, and put her bouquet of pink roses next to it. "Great minds think alike, I see." She kissed her mother hello, and glanced around the room. It was bigger and cheerier than the ICU room had been, with sunny yellow walls and a framed painting of a sailboat across from the bed. "I like your new digs."

"It's a step up," Natalie agreed.

"You're looking much better this morning," Bobby said, also kissing her hello.

"I feel better," she said, setting her empty cup aside. Adrian disposed of it for her. "Not as groggy, anyway. And they let me get up and walk earlier."

"That's wonderful," Peggy said. She smiled at Adrian and bussed his cheek. "Good morning, Adrian. Have you been here long?"

"Hi, Peggy," he returned warmly. "I just got here myself about twenty minutes ago."

Natalie gaped at them in disbelief, and then flicked at her IV bag. "What kind of drugs are _in_ this thing?"

They all laughed. "We've called a truce," Peggy told her. "Actually, it's more that I apologized to him for my atrocious behavior, and he very graciously accepted. And I owe you an apology too, darling."

"Are you apologizing just because you feel sorry for me?" Natalie asked frankly.

"No, I'm apologizing because I was wrong, and because I promised Adrian that I would," Peggy said. "But I will admit that I was _motivated_ to apologize by the fact that I thought you were dying."

Natalie laughed at this. "Surely it wasn't _that_ bad." But no one else was laughing, and her humor faded. "Was it?"

They all exchanged uncomfortable glances. "We really didn't know anything at first, not for hours," Adrian said, finally. "All we knew was that the wreck was bad and you were in surgery."

"It was a really long night," Julie added. "And even once we knew you were going to be okay, the way you looked, with that ventilator thing…" She trailed off.

"We're just very happy that you're going to be fine," Bobby said stoutly.

"Well," Natalie said after a short pause, "even though I'm _not_ dying, Mom, I accept your apology."

Peggy beamed. "Thank you, dear."

They spent the next hour chatting lightly, avoiding any other sensitive topics. At one point, while Julie was chattering away to Natalie and Peggy about one of her college classes, Bobby pulled Adrian aside. "I hope you don't mind, but I took the liberty of starting the ball rolling with Natalie's car insurance company," he said. "We went by the house earlier, and I found the necessary papers."

"Thank you," Adrian said, relieved. "I was just thinking about that this morning."

"I told them to contact Captain Stottlemeyer for copies of the police report and so on," Bobby said. "He glanced at Natalie, careful to keep his voice low. "I also called the hospital billing department and told them to send all medical bills not covered by insurance directly to me. I don't want you two having to worry about the expense of her care with everything else going on. She probably won't like it, but…"

" _I_ appreciate it, very much," Adrian said, sincerely. "It's very generous. Thank you."

Bobby smiled. "What's the point of having money if you don't spend it on those you love?"

A knock at the door interrupted their conversation. The same nurse Adrian had spoken to earlier came in with a covered tray. "Lunchtime!" she announced. "I have some broth and Jell-O for you, dear."

"Yum," Natalie said, without enthusiasm. "I'd rather have a cheeseburger."

The nurse's eyes twinkled. "Let's see how you do with this, first, and then we'll discuss trying something more ambitious."

Natalie managed the broth and most of the Jell-O, but it was clear to all of them that her energy had flagged by the end of the meal. "Get some rest," Adrian told her as he carefully tucked her blankets more securely around her. "I'll be back later to see you, okay?" He kissed her cheek.

"Okay," she mumbled, already half-asleep.

They quietly exited the room, and ran into Randy Disher at the front desk.

"Hey, Monk, how's she doing?" Randy asked.

"Sleeping now," Adrian told him. "She had a good morning, but it tired her out."

"We'll have to come back some other time, then."

"Is Leland here too?" he asked.

"Uh, no." Randy gestured toward a small lobby area near the door, where a woman was standing – a very familiar woman with a riot of brown curls and kind blue eyes.

Adrian couldn't believe what – who – he was seeing. "Sharona!" He crossed over to her, arms extended.

"Hi, Adrian," she greeted, hugging him tightly. "How're you holding up?"

"I'm hanging in there," he told her, and she could see it was true. She'd expected him to be a complete wreck, but he certainly didn't look it.

"What are you doing here?" Adrian asked her once the flurry of introductions and greetings between Randy, Sharona, Julie, and the Davenports had died down. "Did you fly in just to see Natalie?"

"Not exactly," she said, exchanging a glance with Randy. "The fact is, Adrian… I've moved back here."

"You have?" He broke into a wide smile. "That's great!"

She smiled too. "Benjy decided to transfer to Berkeley next semester, and I didn't see the point of living so far away from him _and_ Randy. Plus my landlord decided to sell my house instead of renewing my lease, so I needed to find a new place to live anyway. I gave notice at my job, put some of my things in storage, and… here I am! We decided to keep things quiet and surprise all of you." She beamed at Randy. "I'm living with Randy now, so all I have to do is find a new job. We'll fly to Jersey and drive a U-Haul here with Benjy once he's done with school for the year."

"What is it that you do?" Bobby asked.

"I'm a nurse," she answered. "I might stop by the HR Department as long as we're here and drop off an application."

Bobby's eyes lit up. "I might have a temporary job for you, if you're interested."

Adrian caught on to his plan immediately. "That's a great idea."

"What is?" Sharona asked, mystified.

"Natalie's doctor recommended hiring a home health nurse for her after she's released from the hospital sometime next week," Bobby explained. "She's going to be on bed rest for at least two weeks, and restricted to limited activity for a while after that."

"And you just happen to be a nurse," Adrian said, grinning. "An unemployed nurse – and better yet, someone Natalie knows and likes."

Sharona looked uncertain. "No offense, Adrian, but I wasn't exactly planning on working for you again."

"You wouldn't be working for him, you'd be working for me," Bobby interjected before Adrian could respond. "I'll be the one paying your salary, and believe me, I can afford it."

"It'd only be for about a month, two at the most," Adrian told her. "Just until Natalie's back on her feet. And in the meantime you can look for a more permanent job."

Sharona looked at Randy, who shrugged. "It's your decision," he said.

"All right," Sharona said, shaking Bobby's hand. "I accept."

"It's settled, then," Bobby said, looking very pleased. "We'll meet later this week and work out the details."


	15. Chapter 15

_Sorry for the length of time between chapters - I was on vacation. :)_

* * *

Adrian was kept very busy during the next several days. He did research on car safety with Ambrose's help (his brother happened to be acquainted, via the Internet, with several writers for _Consumer Reports_ ), practiced his rusty driving skills (accompanied by Leland, and occasionally Julie), spoke to his landlord at length, and visited Natalie as often as he could manage.

She tired easily, in part due to the pain medication she was on, so he would spend an hour or two with her in the morning, and another hour or two in the late afternoon. He and the Davenports generally tried staggering their visits so they weren't all there at the same time, just to make it easier for Natalie.

Julie visited briefly every day, but she'd returned to classes at Berkeley (at her mother's insistence) and had a lot of make-up work to complete. Randy and Sharona as well as Leland and T.K. took time to visit, and Cassandra called several times just to chat, as did Natalie's brother Jonathan. He'd made noises about flying down to see her, but Natalie had insisted he didn't need to disrupt his busy schedule (he was a VP for Davenport Industries, working out of their Seattle office) on her account.

On the afternoon of the fourth day after her accident, Adrian walked into her hospital room and stopped short. Her room looked like a florist's shop. There were flowers _everywhere_ – on the counter, the windowsill, the small table by the window. There was hardly a bare horizontal space that didn't have flowers, other than the floor and the bed.

"This is getting ridiculous," Natalie said, gesturing to the counter by her bed, which was now crammed with vases. "Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the sentiments, but I'm running out of room."

He examined the cards sticking out from various bouquets. Aside from the flowers from him and Julie, her parents had given her a separate bouquet. There was also one from the mayor's office, one from the police commissioner's office, one from the district attorney's office, one from Ambrose, one from Jonathan, one from her next-door neighbors, one from the Stottlemeyers, one from Randy and Sharona, an enormous arrangement from Stottlemeyer's Homicide Division, one from Cassandra Donaghue and the staff at the Four Seasons, one from Dr. Bell and Dr. Hector, and one from…

"Why is Harold Krenshaw sending you flowers?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I have no idea. Maybe he's just being nice?"

"Maybe he's just trying to annoy me," Adrian muttered.

"Don't let him know that it worked," she said dryly.

He turned to her, a snappy retort on his lips, but it faded when he noticed how pale and listless she was. "How are you feeling?" he asked, concerned.

"They're starting to wean me off the IV pain medication. Dr. Harmon says it's a good thing, because it means I'm one step closer to going home, but…" She winced. "It hurts to move, even a little. And breathe."

"I'm sorry you're in pain," he said, stroking her hair.

She managed a trembling smile. "We soldier on," she said, quoting her mother.

"I have some news that might lift your spirits a little," he offered.

"Oh yeah?"

"I bought a car today."

"You — " She stared at him, dumbstruck. " _You_ bought a _car_?"

He nodded. "Ambrose helped me do all the research. We decided on a Honda Civic, since it has one of the highest safety ratings of all the four-door sedans. And your father came with me and helped with the negotiating part."

She had so many questions she hardly knew what to ask first. "What color?"

"Silver. It's the easiest color to keep clean, according to the salesman at the dealership."

She grinned. That _would_ be his first concern. "Are you… have you driven it yet?"

"I drove it here."

"You did?" She actually threw back the covers as if she were going to climb out of bed, but the sudden movement caused her to gasp in pain.

"Whoa, what are you doing?" he said, gently easing her back down, and holding her hand until the spasm of pain passed.

"I want to see it," she protested weakly, as he tucked her covers back in around her.

"You will – _after_ you're discharged and I take you home in it," he said firmly.

"You really drove here? All by yourself?" she asked wonderingly.

"That's right," he confirmed. He couldn't help feeling a little proud. It had been nerve-wracking, but he'd managed, thanks to the practice he'd managed to fit in over the last few days.

"So _that's_ what you've been up to lately," she said.

"Among other things." He pulled up a chair next to her bed and sat, deciding he might as well tell her the rest of his news. "I hope you don't mind, but I made an executive decision about our new living arrangements."

"Oh?" she asked, a little warily.

"I gave my landlord notice. I'm not renewing my lease."

"Adrian," she breathed in astonishment. "Are you sure? I – "

"I'm _sure_ ," he interrupted. "It makes the most sense. You're going to have an easier recovery if you're in your own home. There will be room for Julie so she can stay and help out when she wants, and I can stay in the guest room while you're recuperating. You're not going to have the physical stamina to pack up your things for a while, so it'll be easier for me to pack up mine. I'm not going to be bringing much, anyway."

"But all your furniture and – "

"I'm selling the furniture to my landlord," he said. "He says he'll be able to rent the apartment faster if it's furnished. So it'll just be my clothes, cleaning equipment, books, personal effects, work files, and some other odds and ends. I can put some things in storage if I need to, or even leave a few things with Ambrose."

"How long do you have?" she asked.

"Until June first, but I'm going to be staying at your house starting next week, after you're discharged, and do the packing in stages. Your parents are going to live at my apartment for the next two months."

"They are?" she said in surprise. This was the first she'd heard of it.

He shrugged. "Bobby told me that he and Peggy planned to lease an apartment nearby for the next month or two so they could be nearby in case we needed help. I thought it'd just be easier if they just used mine, since I planned to stay at your place after you go home anyway, so they talked to my landlord. I guess technically they're subleasing it. They're going to go back to Monterey in a few days so they can pack more extensively, but they'll be back a day or two after your discharge."

She seemed impressed, but also a little sad. "I'm going to be sorry to see your apartment go, to be honest. We have so many memories there."

"I know," he agreed soberly. "It was where we met, and where I told you I loved you for the first time."

"Where we got engaged," she supplied.

"And where we first – " He stopped and cleared his throat. "That reminds me, do you have any strong attachment to your bed?"

"You mean the one in my bedroom, at my house?" she said, puzzled.

He nodded.

"Not really," she said, after thinking a moment. "It's just a bed."

"I was thinking I might move my bed to your house, and leave yours at my apartment. My landlord doesn't care, as long as there's a bed in good condition. I have a queen-size to your full-size, and it's just more comfortable." He grinned. "And it has many happy memories associated with it."

She laughed. "Too bad we can't bring your shower, too."

"That _is_ a shame," he agreed. "Your shower isn't nearly as nice. But we'll make do."

"I'm glad you're bringing _something_ of yours, anyway," she said. "I feel bad that you'll need to leave so much behind."

He shook his head. "They're just things. You're more important."

She laid back on her pillow and studied him. "But, Adrian… they're the things you chose with Trudy."

"Then it's all the more fitting that I leave them behind," he said. "We're going to start _our_ new life."

She looked disturbed at that. "I don't want you to feel like you have to leave her behind," she said quietly.

"I'm not leaving _her_ behind," he said. "She's always with me, here." He placed a hand over his heart. "All the possessions in the world won't change that."

She regarded him with approval. "You've really put a lot of thought into this, haven't you?"

"Let's just say that Dr. Bell and I have had some interesting conversations recently." He squeezed her hand. "As of next week, Ms. Teeger, we are officially living together."

"I can't wait," she said, smiling tiredly. "Mostly because it means that I'll be out of this damn hospital. The nurses are nice and all, but… I want to go home."

"Soon," he promised.


	16. Chapter 16

"Soon" came three days later. Natalie was nearly beside herself with impatience on the morning of her discharge. It felt blessedly normal to be wearing real clothes again – Julie had brought them to the hospital for her – despite the fact that she'd had to make do with a nurse-assisted sponge bath instead of an actual bath or shower, and even though she'd needed help getting dressed as though she were a toddler again.

As she'd expected, Dr. Harmon visited her that morning and laid down the law. She had to stay as still and quiet as possible over the next several weeks in order for her ribs to heal satisfactorily. If she tried to do too much too soon, she could potentially re-crack one of her already-healing ribs, or, worse, re-break her fractured ribs – which could be disastrous, as it could cause more internal bleeding or another collapsed lung. And she needed to be very careful not to rip open the incision from her surgery.

"I've already gone over your medication requirements with Ms. Fleming," he said. "In addition to the antibiotics, I'm writing you a prescription for Percocet. If the pain is significant, you can take ibuprofen in conjunction with it. Ice packs might also help relieve any discomfort. Time is the best healer there is at this point, and it's going to be painful for the next several weeks, even with the medication. Excruciating pain, however, isn't normal, so if you experience anything like that, I need to be notified right away." He glanced at her over his reading glasses. "I'll see you again in two weeks so I can gauge your progress, and I'll know if you've been overdoing it. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Doctor," she said obediently.

He smiled then. "I have a feeling that both Mr. Monk and Ms. Fleming will be watching you like hawks, so perhaps my admonitions are unnecessary." He laughed at the droll expression on her face.

There was a knock at the door, and the nurse came in with a wheelchair. Julie was behind her. "Ah, time to go, I see," Dr. Harmon said. He shook Natalie's hand. "Despite the circumstances, it's been a pleasure, Natalie. I'll see you in two weeks." He nodded to Julie as he left the room.

"Ready to bust out of here?" Julie said cheerfully. She had already loaded all of Natalie's flowers into Adrian's car.

" _More_ than ready," Natalie said emphatically.

"I've already signed all your paperwork, so you're good to go," Julie said, helping her into a light jacket. "Adrian's waiting at the front."

With the nurse's assistance, she was settled into the wheelchair and wheeled to the elevator, then down and out the front doors. It was a beautiful, if slightly cool, spring day, and Natalie took a deep breath of the fresh air, even though it hurt her ribs to do so.

True to Julie's word, Adrian was waiting outside, standing in front of a sleek silver sedan. He looked nervous, but brightened when he saw her. "There you are," he said, opening the rear driver's side door. "Your chariot awaits."

"Some chariot," she said, impressed. Taking the nurse's arm, and assisted by Julie, she carefully eased inside. The interior was upholstered in dark gray. It was, of course, spotlessly clean, and still had a new-car smell. Adrian leaned inside and buckled her seat belt for her. She winced slightly at the feeling of constriction against her chest.

"You okay?" he asked worriedly.

"Yeah," she said, trying to smile through the pain. "Let's go home."

Julie went around to the passenger side as Adrian slid into the driver's seat. She noticed his hands were trembling slightly and bit her lip, wondering inwardly if it might not be better to let Julie take the wheel. But after he buckled his seat belt, and made sure Julie was also buckled in, he vised his hands on the steering wheel, cautiously checked for oncoming traffic, turned on his blinker, put the car into drive and slowly pulled away from the curb.

He was an exceedingly careful driver, never letting his speedometer go above the posted speed limit for an instant, always using his blinker, and refusing to enter an intersection if the traffic light was yellow. But in due course, they pulled into her driveway, and Adrian heaved a sigh of relief as he turned off the car. Although he was getting more and more used to it, driving was still a nerve-wracking experience for him.

Sharona, dressed in a pair of candy-pink scrubs, came out of the house when she heard the car pull in. She smiled when Adrian stepped out of the driver's side. "Everything go okay?" she asked, and he knew he was talking about more than Natalie's discharge.

"Just fine," he answered.

Together, they eased Natalie out of the car and helped her into the house. Sharona had already prepared the couch with blankets and pillows, correctly guessing that her patient wouldn't want to go straight to bed after arriving home.

Natalie gingerly eased down onto the couch, wanting to breathe deeply but knowing it would be painful to do so. The short walk from the car into the house was the most strenuous exercise she'd had since the accident, and she was feeling winded by it. The doctor had warned she'd be dealing with shortness of breath while her injured lung healed.

Sharona expertly took her pulse as both Adrian and Julie hovered anxiously. Then she pulled out a stethoscope and listened to her lungs.

"How's the pain?" Sharona asked briskly, removing the prongs of the stethoscope from her ears.

"Not too bad," Natalie said, but her cheeks were pale and her face strained beneath the fading scrapes and bruises. The healing laceration on her forehead stood out in vivid contrast.

"Adrian, could you get me a cold pack from the freezer?" Sharona asked casually. "And Julie, why don't you fix your mom some ice water?"

They rushed to do her bidding, and in due course Natalie felt much more comfortable. The cold pack helped ease the stinging in her ribs, and the ice water felt wonderful to her dry throat.

After helping Adrian carry in all the flowers they'd transported from the hospital, Julie reluctantly left, as she had a two o'clock class that Natalie insisted she attend. After seeing her off, Adrian came and perched carefully on the edge of the couch, his hip nearly touching hers.

"I have something for you," he told Natalie. He reached into his pocket and drew out the bag containing her engagement ring.

"Finally," she said with a relieved smile.

"Let's put this back where it belongs, shall we?" he said, and slid the ring onto her finger, much as he had the night he'd proposed.

He leaned forward and kissed her, then, and although he meant it to be gentle, it deepened into the first truly intimate kiss they'd shared since before the accident, with their eyes closed and their tongues meeting eagerly.

A loud cough interrupted them a few minutes later, and they reluctantly separated. Sharona stood in the kitchen doorway, looking equal parts amused and embarrassed. "Excuse me for interrupting, but it's time for her medication."

"Sorry," Adrian said, but he didn't look it. In fact, he looked rather pleased. "Listen, I was thinking of going to the apartment to do some packing," he told Natalie, knowing that her pain pills would make her sleepy for the next several hours. "Your parents get back tomorrow and I want to clear some things out. But I'll stay if you want me here."

"Go ahead. I'll be fine," she said, and he kissed her cheek before leaving.

Sharona took his place, handing Natalie a small Dixie cup with several pills in it along with a fresh glass of water. "Your antibiotics and your painkillers," she said.

Natalie took the pills and drank the water. When she was finished, Sharona lifted her left hand so she could admire her ring. "The pictures didn't do it justice," she said. "It's really lovely."

"Adrian can tell Randy where to buy one just like it," Natalie teased gently.

Sharona rolled her eyes. "We're happy with the way things are for the moment," she said, but she was smiling as she dropped Natalie's hand. Then, unexpectedly, she giggled. "Okay, I'm sorry, but I have to say it. I never thought I'd witness _Adrian Monk_ sticking his tongue in someone else's mouth."

"To be honest, neither did I," Natalie confessed, giggling too. "It took me a little while to get used to it." She blushed, remembering the first time it'd happened, on the terrace of the Four Seasons. She wasn't sure which one of them had been more surprised, but Adrian had quickly realized that he thoroughly enjoyed it… and so had she.

"So," Sharona said, carefully avoiding Natalie's gaze, and busying herself with straightening the blankets, "I take it that there haven't been any issues with… um… his ability to be intimate?"

Natalie considered how to reply. She wasn't surprised that Sharona had asked, given how Natalie had confided her — happily unfounded — worries about that issue to her and T.K. the night of the Gala. But she also didn't want to betray Adrian's confidence by discussing private details of their sex life with anyone else.

"Let's just say," she said finally, "that Trudy Monk was a _very_ lucky woman… and so am I." She smiled, a little smugly.

Sharona slanted her a look that was slightly chastising. "Be careful that you don't get carried away. You need a doctor's clearance before any… strenuous physical activity."

"Considering it hurts to breathe, let alone move, I think I can restrain myself," Natalie said dryly.

"See that you do," Sharona said, her mouth quirking. "Now get some rest. Nurse's orders."


	17. Chapter 17

"Can we talk about the wedding now?" Natalie asked Adrian the next morning, after she'd finished breakfast and taken her morning medication. She was propped up in bed – _their_ bed, the one that had formerly been in his apartment – as he sat beside her, reading the newspaper. He was sleeping in the guest room for the time being, as he didn't want to take the chance of accidentally bumping her in his sleep and causing her pain, nor did he want to disturb the elaborate arrangement of pillows she used to support her chest and torso as she slept. But he'd come in to keep her company as she ate breakfast.

"I guess so," he said, slightly reluctantly, folding his newspaper and laying it aside. He'd been dreading this conversation for the last several days. He took a deep breath and said, "I think we should postpone it for a few months, and give you time to fully recover."

He recognized the stubborn set of her chin, and knew what her response would be before she even opened her mouth. "I think we should keep it as June fourth."

"That's not enough time — " he began.

"I disagree," she said. "It's ten weeks away. The doctor said I'd have two weeks of bed rest and six weeks of limited activity, so there's plenty of time."

"The doctor said two, _possibly_ _three_ weeks of bed rest, _maybe more_ depending on your progress," Adrian countered. "Same with the limited activity. If we postpone the wedding for a few months, it gives you a buffer in case you relapse."

"I'm not going to relapse," she scoffed.

"You don't know that," he said, already exasperated. "You haven't even been home for twenty-four hours yet."

"I'm being careful," she said. "I'm taking all my medicine and following Sharona's orders."

"So far," he muttered.

She looked indignant. "I'm not going to take chances. Do you think I _want_ to get worse?"

"No," he said, "but I think you might… overestimate your capabilities at some point. Such as now, when you want to keep planning a wedding while you're on bed rest."

"I can easily plan a wedding while on bed rest," she asserted. "Most of it is just making phone calls, sending e-mails, and doing Internet searches. I'll have Cassandra to do any actual legwork."

"Not all of it," he said. "Do you expect to choose a wedding dress from your bedroom, for example?"

She sighed in frustration. "That can wait until I'm back on my feet. Besides, I need _something_ to do. I'm already bored to tears. It'll help keep me distracted."

"I saw how anxious it was making you," he objected. "You were on the verge of making yourself sick. I don't want that to happen again."

"It wasn't that bad," she said dismissively.

"It _was_ that bad," he insisted. "I've never seen you so tense before."

"It's different now," she argued. "Part of the reason I was so tense before is because it didn't seem like I had enough time to get everything done, what with working and potentially moving on top of wedding planning. But now I have nothing _but_ time for the wedding planning part."

"You can still plan the wedding, but what's wrong with planning it for August instead of June?" he said.

"I don't want to get married in August," she said adamantly. "You and Trudy were married in August. I want us to have our own month."

He had to struggle not to roll his eyes. "September, then."

She shook her head. "That's when Mitch and I got married."

"All right, October."

"I don't want to wait that long," she said obstinately.

"What's the rush?" he asked. "We're already living together."

She folded her arms across her chest, then gasped as her arm accidentally bumped against one of her sore ribs.

"Natalie," he said, distressed. He reached for her arm but she shook him off.

"It's okay," she gulped, her face white with pain. "I just… forgot about my ribs for a minute."

"See?" he said. "How do you expect to be one hundred percent by June fourth if you 'forget' about your ribs?"

She shot him a dirty look. "It didn't start turning cartwheels or anything. I just moved too fast. It happens."

"I don't understand why you're so set on keeping the wedding date," he said, frustrated. "Yes, we might lose our deposit, but I don't care. Your health is more important."

"It's because I don't want them to win!" she erupted.

"Who?" he asked, honestly bewildered.

"Biederbeck," she said. "And Horn." She'd seen a news report about her accident while in the hospital, and had learned about Horn's connection to the case they had worked.

He shook his head. "I don't see what you mean."

"They've already taken so much from us," she said heatedly. "We fought because of Biederbeck, and the accident happened because of Horn. If we have to postpone the wedding because of them, that means they win, don't you see? It means they've managed to take something else from us. Again."

"I don't — "

"Excuse me." Sharona appeared in the doorway. They'd both forgotten the door was ajar. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but I could hear you all the way down the hall."

"Sorry," Natalie muttered as she eased into the room.

"Can I make a suggestion?" Sharona asked delicately, sitting on the bed. "Talk to Dr. Harmon or Dr. Hector before you make any decisions. Get their professional opinion on whether or not to move the wedding date."

Adrian and Natalie exchanged a glance. "I suppose," Natalie said reluctantly.

"I'm seeing Dr. Bell today," Adrian said tentatively. "I could ask him if Dr. Hector could drop by sometime this week."

"What about you?" Natalie asked Sharona. "What's your professional opinion?"

"Well…" Sharona hesitated slightly. "On one hand, I can see Adrian's point. The most sensible option would be to postpone the wedding until you're fully recovered."

"Thank you," Adrian said, a trifle smugly.

"But," Sharona continued, "on the other hand, I can see Natalie's point. It's important for her to keep herself occupied, especially while confined to bed, and planning the wedding would be a useful distraction. Having the wedding to look forward to, having it as a goal to work towards, could also be beneficial for her recovery. And ten weeks out should be adequate recovery time, _if_ all goes well."

" _Thank_ you," Natalie said, also smug.

"But I really think you should consult a doctor before making plans either way," Sharona advised. "And you need to _listen_ to their recommendation." She glanced at Natalie. "Even if that means pushing the wedding back to October. Or even July."

Natalie made a face. "July's too hot."

Adrian threw up his arms. "What does it matter? The hotel has air conditioning."

"The ceremony is on the terrace."

"The _shaded_ terrace."

"It'd still be hot."

"Oh, for – "

"Adrian," Sharona said, a warning in her tone.

He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I'll talk to Dr. Bell today and see if Dr. Hector can drop by this week, all right?" he said resignedly. "Let's just table the discussion until we talk to her."

Natalie sighed. "Agreed."

"Good," Sharona said brightly. "Now, Adrian, you leave so Natalie can rest." She shot him a look and he didn't dare object.

"Okay," he said, rising from the bed. "I might as well do some more packing. Your parents are due in this afternoon." He leaned over and kissed the top of her head. "I'll see you later."


	18. Chapter 18

"She's being so _stubborn_ about this," Adrian groused to Dr. Bell at his session later that afternoon. "I don't understand why it's such a big deal to postpone things for a few months."

"This is Natalie's way of dealing with the repercussions of her accident," Dr. Bell said mildly. "She's trying to hold on to normalcy. For her, changing the wedding date means conceding that something very bad happened to her."

"Something bad _did_ happen to her," Adrian said.

"Yes, I know," Dr. Bell acknowledged. "But it's the same reason that you kept your apartment exactly the same, right down to the placement of the furniture, for so many years after Trudy died."

Adrian was silent for a few moments. "I hadn't thought about it like that," he said grudgingly. "Do you think we should keep the date as it is?"

Dr. Bell shrugged. "Regardless of how she feels emotionally, it may be in the best interest of her physical health to postpone, but that's outside of my area of expertise." He cocked his head. "If you like, Anna and I could come by so that you could discuss it with her."

"I was going to ask if she could," Adrian said with relief. "I think Natalie might listen to Dr. Hector."

"How about tonight?" he offered. "Around seven?"

"That works. Thanks."

Dr. Bell nodded. "Do I have your permission to tell her what it's regarding?"

"Of course."

He nodded again, then steepled his hands. "And how is the moving going?"

"Pretty well," Adrian said. "Leland and Randy helped me switch the beds last week. This week I've moved all my clothes and toiletries, and my cleaning supplies."

"The most important items," Dr. Bell said, hiding a smile.

"Exactly," Adrian agreed, oblivious to the humor. "I'm going to start with my books and files next."

"Are you having any trouble with the transition, in terms of your emotional state?"

Adrian considered. "Surprisingly, not really," he said, slowly. "I mostly feel… prepared to move on. It hasn't been as difficult as I thought it would be."

"You've grown tremendously over the past few months," Dr. Bell said. "In a mental health sense, that is. I think your relationship with Natalie has been very beneficial for you."

"Every day I've felt more like the man I was when Trudy was alive," Adrian said, smiling. "I'd almost forgotten how it felt to be… well… kind of normal."

"I think you handled the aftermath of Natalie's accident extremely well," Dr. Bell said. "Better than I expected, to be completely honest."

Adrian squirmed slightly, embarrassed by the compliment, but pleased as well. "You told me I had to be strong for her," he said. "I decided you were right. And Julie needed me too."

He was silent for a long moment. "Natalie once told me that having Julie was the one thing that saved her after Mitch died, because she was forced to be strong for her. I sometimes wonder if I would have managed better after Trudy's death if I'd had a child that needed me."

"It can make a difference," Dr. Bell said. "Sometimes it's easier to focus on others. It keeps us from fixating on our own grief." He leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other. "Have you and Natalie talked about children?"

Adrian looked perplexed. "What do you mean?"

"Have the two of you discussed having children of your own?"

Adrian stared at him as though he'd grown a second head. "I don't… it's not possible."

"Why not?" Dr. Bell asked.

"I'm too old," Adrian said blankly.

Dr. Bell shrugged. "You may be older than the average first-time father, but plenty of men your age have fathered children."

"Natalie's not exactly young either," Adrian said. He fidgeted and twisted his hands together, clearly unnerved.

"Perhaps not, but she's still of childbearing age." Dr. Bell raised his eyebrows. "Have you been using protection?"

"I – she's – " Adrian blushed, absolutely mortified. "She takes birth control pills."

"It's something you might want to consider discussing, just to make sure you're on the same page," Dr. Bell said reasonably. "After all, contraception isn't foolproof."

"I don't – I can't – " He ran a shaky hand through his hair, trying to keep his feelings of panic contained.

"All I'm saying is that you should _think_ about talking to her about it," Dr. Bell said gently. "It's a matter on which spouses should be in agreement, but you won't know her feelings unless you ask her." He smiled reassuringly. "We'll discuss it more in our next session, all right? Your time is up for today."

"Okay," Adrian said, sounding dazed. "I'll think about it."

"We'll see you later this evening, then."

* * *

"What did Dr. Bell say?" Natalie asked him after he'd arrived home. Sharona had helped her to the couch for the afternoon, for a change of scene.

Adrian blanched. "About what?"

She looked at him strangely. "About talking to Dr. Hector."

"Oh!" He breathed a sigh of relief. "He said they'd stop by tonight, around seven."

"That's good." She eyed him with concern. He seemed pale and distracted. "What did you think I was talking about?"

"Nothing," he said, twitching slightly.

"Are you all right?"

He saw how worried she looked, and made an effort to calm himself down. "I'm fine. Dr. Bell just gave me a lot to think about today."

"What did – " She stopped, hesitated, then offered, "I'm more than happy to listen if you feel like talking about it."

He nodded. "I know."

The sound of a car pulling into the driveway caught his attention, and he looked out the window. "Your parents are here," he said, grateful for the distraction.

Bobby and Peggy came in a few minutes later, laden with smiles and gift bags. They'd brought Natalie an abundance of items to help her during her time on bed rest – paperback novels (both the hard copy variety as well as several on CD), crossword puzzle books, DVDs, several new pajama sets with matching robes and slippers, snacks, chocolates, lotions, and an impressive stationery kit complete with monogrammed paper and envelopes, a lap desk, fancy pens, and stamps.

"You really shouldn't have," Natalie murmured, but her eyes were shining with pleasure as she looked at the array of gifts.

"Nonsense," Bobby laughed. "You of all people should know how fun it is to spoil your daughter."

She smiled sheepishly as she peered inside the gift bag of DVDs. " _My Big Fat Greek Wedding_ … _The Wedding Singer… Runaway Bride…_ _Father of the Bride_ … I'm sensing a theme here."

"That was my idea," Peggy said, smiling. Natalie knew it was her mother's way of apologizing, again, for how she'd initially acted about their engagement.

Another title caught her eye. How had her mother known? "Why'd you pick _When Harry Met Sally_?"

"That was Julie's suggestion," her mother laughed. "She said something about it being appropriate."

Natalie grinned. That explained it. Well, now she could watch it with Adrian.

"Oooh, _My Best Friend's Wedding_ ," Sharona said, peeking into the bag as well. "I love that one."

"Speaking of, have you two made any decisions about the wedding date?" Peggy asked.

Adrian and Natalie exchanged an uneasy glance. "Not yet," Adrian said. "We're meeting with Dr. Hector tonight to discuss it further."

"Well, whatever you decide, I'll help in any way I can," Peggy said. "If you'll recall, I'm quite experienced with event planning."

Natalie's eyes lit up at this, and she looked meaningfully at Adrian. "I'd appreciate that, Mom. Thanks."

"How about some coffee?" Sharona asked cheerfully, going into the kitchen. Bobby followed her in.

"How's the patient doing?" he asked.

"Very well," she answered as she filled the coffeepot.

"Has she given you any trouble?"

Sharona grinned as she carefully poured water into the coffeemaker. "So far, she's been very cooperative," she answered. "I'll let you know if that changes."

"We really appreciate your willingness to help out, Ms. Fleming," Bobby told her. "It's a relief that Natalie's in good hands with someone she knows and trusts."

"It's Sharona," she told him, expertly measuring coffee. "And I appreciate the temporary employment. As nursing jobs go, it's pretty easy, and the pay is beyond generous." This job alone would easily fund the plane tickets and U-Haul rental she needed to retrieve her and Benjy's things in a few months.

Bobby smiled. "It's my pleasure. Well, you let me know if she needs anything, all right?"

"I will," Sharona promised, starting the coffeemaker.


	19. Chapter 19

Drs. Bell and Hector came over, as promised, later that night. Sharona had already left for the day, but the Davenports were still around, so Dr. Hector left Neven chatting with them as she went up to Natalie's room. She found that Adrian had already settled Natalie in bed for the evening and was busy engaged in scrubbing her bathroom. When he heard the doctor's cheerful greeting, he stripped off his rubber gloves and washed his hands.

He found Dr. Hector sitting on the bed, chatting amiably with Natalie. "Hello, Adrian," she said.

"Hi," he greeted. "Thanks for coming."

"My pleasure," she said, smiling. "I wanted to see how Natalie was getting on, anyway. The last time I saw you, Natalie, you weren't in very good shape, but you look much better now."

Natalie flushed, looking pleased. "I wanted to thank you for keeping my ring," she said. "At first I was worried that it'd gotten lost or something, but Adrian said you kept it safe for me."

"I knew it was important to you," Dr. Hector said sympathetically. "How have you been feeling?"

"Great, all things considered," Natalie said brightly. "It's nice to be home."

"And how have you _really_ been feeling?" the doctor asked, raising an eyebrow.

Natalie reddened. "My ribs hurt. A lot," she said honestly. "The medication helps, but they still ache pretty much constantly. Sometimes it's hard to breathe. And I still feel sore _everywhere_."

Dr. Hector nodded. "That's to be expected. How's the head wound?"

Natalie touched the stitches on her forehead. "It itches like crazy sometimes, but it seems to be healing well."

"And your surgical incision?"

"Sharona said it looked good when she last changed the bandages, but there's a lot of bruising around it still." She hesitated, and then said in a low voice, "I haven't really been able to bring myself to look at it yet."

Adrian hadn't known this. He took her hand in his, but he said nothing.

"That might take some time," Dr. Hector said, patting Natalie's leg reassuringly. She looked from one to the other. "Neven tells me that you're having a disagreement over postponing the wedding."

The two exchanged a glance. "I think we should wait a few more months," Adrian said, a little testily. "So she has time to fully recover."

"And I don't _want_ to wait," Natalie said, lifting her chin slightly. "I think ten weeks is plenty of time for me to recover."

"Not when you're trying to plan the wedding at the same time you're trying to recuperate," he objected. "The stress could cause a setback."

"I'm going to have lots of help," Natalie protested. "You heard my mother – she said she'd help in any way she could. Plus I'll have Cassandra. And Julie, Sharona, and T.K., too."

"I'm not sure if adding your mother to the equation will make things _less_ stressful," Adrian said grimly.

"I thought you two were getting along now," Natalie said, puzzled and a little hurt.

"We do. We _are_ ," he said. "It's just… she's being very nice now, but she…" He searched for a more tactful way to say that she could be pushy as hell. "She has a very forceful personality and I'm worried she might try to take things over and do things her way – which would make you upset and cause you stress. I remember how she was with Jonathan's wedding."

"If that happens, I'll have Cassandra to run interference," Natalie said coaxingly. "She does this for a living. She's probably accustomed to dealing with pushy mothers."

"Cassandra is…?" Dr. Hector questioned.

"The wedding coordinator," they said together.

"From the Four Seasons," Natalie added.

Dr. Hector smiled. "What a lovely place to get married."

"It is," Natalie said wistfully.

The doctor thought for a few moments, tapping a finger on her chin. "Have your invitations been sent yet?" she asked.

Natalie shook her head. "They were supposed to be printed last week, but the accident happened the night before we were going to finalize them."

"I see." Dr. Hector contemplated a bit more. "Here's what I propose," she said, finally. "Proceed, for now, on the assumption that the wedding will go on as scheduled – "

"Really?" Natalie interrupted excitedly.

" _But_ ," Dr. Hector emphasized, "hold off on the invitations for another month or so, and try to avoid making any selections that are very time sensitive – that is, that aren't easy to cancel or reschedule if needed. In four weeks, you can reevaluate how things are, both in terms of Natalie's physical health and your overall stress level, and make a final decision then. It should still be early enough at that point to send your invitations." She looked at Adrian. "In the meantime, perhaps you should decide on an alternate wedding date, just in case it becomes necessary."

He considered, and then nodded reluctantly. "I could agree to that," he said.

"Me too," Natalie said, still excited.

Dr. Hector gave her a piercing stare, which caused her to shrink back a little. "Let me make two things absolutely clear, Natalie," she said in a sharp tone. "First, you need to follow Dr. Harmon's and Sharona's instructions to the letter. No trying to do more than they've cleared just because you _think_ you feel up to it. And Adrian's right, high levels of stress will only complicate your recovery. If the wedding planning gets to be too much, you either need to delegate more effectively or you need to be truthful about your need to postpone."

Natalie nodded, her eyes wide and her expression solemn.

"Secondly," Dr. Hector continued, "you need to be fully and completely honest, with Adrian _and_ with yourself, when it comes time to reevaluate. If your progress is not up to par, then you _will_ need to reschedule. Trying to sugarcoat your condition will not do you any favors. I'm going to examine you in four weeks, and I'm going to ask Neven to examine you as well. If we conclude your physical or mental recovery isn't on track, no matter how you claim you feel, I will _strenuously_ recommend postponing the wedding. Do we understand each other?"

Natalie nodded again. "I understand," she said in a small voice.

Dr. Hector's expression softened. "Good. We're all just looking out for your best interests, you know. The last thing we want is for you to land back in the hospital."

She smiled at them both. "I'm glad that's settled. Adrian, why don't you escort me out so Natalie can get some rest?"

Adrian grinned, impressed. He hadn't heard such an effective dressing down since his rookie year at the police academy. "Absolutely."

When they went downstairs, they found that Leland had dropped by. The Davenports said their farewells and left a few minutes after they came down.

"Hey, I brought you a copy of the accident report, like you asked," Leland said, handing Adrian a manila folder.

"Thanks," Adrian said, accepting it. "Did you fax a copy to the insurance company?"

"Yesterday," Leland said, nodding.

"May I?" Dr. Hector asked, holding her hand out.

"Sure," Adrian said, nonplussed. He gave the folder to her.

She opened it and leafed through its contents. When she got to the accident photos, she studied them for a full minute, and then shook her head, puzzled. "Are you sure these are the right pictures?"

Leland glanced at them and nodded in confirmation. "Yeah, why?"

Her brow furrowed. "I don't understand. Natalie's injuries aren't consistent with a crash of this extent."

"What do you mean?" Adrian asked.

She examined one of the pictures again, a particularly harrowing one of Natalie's vehicle. Her car was crumpled and twisted, barely recognizable. "If you asked me to guess at the injuries received from this crash, I'd say that the driver – _if_ they survived, which would be questionable – likely had severe spinal damage, and perhaps neurological damage as well." She studied the photo again. "I don't see how anyone could have escaped this crash with only some broken ribs and internal bleeding. At the very least, I'd have expected broken arms or legs, perhaps a fractured pelvis."

"But you said… the airbag, and the seatbelt…" Adrian stammered.

"They probably did save her life," Dr. Hector said, shaking her head again as she handed him the file, "but I don't see how they could have possibly prevented the injuries she _should_ have had."

"You know, it's funny, but the accident reconstructionist in the department said the exact same thing," Leland mentioned casually. "He couldn't believe it when I told him she was alive and well, relatively speaking."

Dr. Hector shrugged. "It's a mystery, all right. Well, we've taken up enough of your time. Neven, are you ready to go?"

Dr. Bell nodded. "I'll see you next week," he said to Adrian, and he and his wife left the house.

Adrian stared at Leland, visibly shaken. "How _did_ she survive?" he asked, looking down at the accident photos. This was the first time he had seen them as well, and he was as perplexed as Dr. Hector had been. During his years as a cop, he'd seen a lot of vehicular accidents, and ordinarily he would have agreed with her – there was no way someone could have survived a crash of this severity with no life-threatening injuries or permanent disability. Yet, somehow, Natalie had.

Leland shrugged. "I have a theory, but it's not very scientific." At Adrian's questioning gaze, he continued. "I think Natalie had one hell of a guardian angel."

"A guardian angel?" Adrian repeated dubiously.

"One named Trudy," Leland said simply. "She knew that losing the woman you loved, _again_ , would destroy you. So she used divine intervention to make sure that didn't happen."

Adrian shook his head, looking at the pictures again. "I guess it's as good a theory as any," he said quietly, remembering how he'd begged Trudy for help during those endless hours in the ER waiting room.

Leland smiled. "I'd better get home. Talk to you later, okay?"

"Okay," Adrian said absently, still leafing through the accident report. "Thanks."

After Leland had gone, Adrian went upstairs and sat at Natalie's bedside for a long time, watching her face as she slept. After a while he kissed her cheek, very gently so as not to wake her, and went to the guest room to get some sleep himself.

But before he drifted off, he whispered, "Thank you, Trudy."


	20. Chapter 20

_We're halfway through the story at this point! Woohoo!_

* * *

A few hours later, the nightmare happened.

Natalie's scream woke Adrian from a sound sleep. Panicked, he rushed into her room. She was awake, curled in a fetal position, her face twisted in pain. "Natalie?" he said, terrified. He was seconds away from snatching her bedside phone and dialing 911 when she clutched at his arm. "I had a bad dream," she gasped. "Then I moved too fast."

"What can I do?" he asked, thinking frantically about calling Sharona. Or Dr. Hector. Or _someone_ who could tell him what to do for her.

"Just… stay with me," she said, her breathing heavy. So he did, holding her as tightly as he dared, waiting until her pulse slowed down and her breathing evened out.

At last, she laid back against her pillows with a sigh. "It's better now," she said, but her voice was still trembling.

"Do you want to tell me about it?" he asked gently.

"I was driving," she said unsteadily. "I stopped at an intersection, and no one was coming so I kept going. All of a sudden I was blinded by a pair of headlights, and there was this unbelievably loud crunching noise, like – like a million aluminum cans were being crushed at once. And I could hear glass breaking. Then everything was spinning for a minute, and when it stopped, I looked down – " She swallowed. "There was blood everywhere. It was all over me. I started screaming, and – and then I woke up."

"It was just a dream," he said soothingly, but he was pretty sure she was accurately describing what had happened the night of her accident, from her point-of-view.

"Will you stay with me?" she whispered.

"I – " He felt torn. The last thing he wanted to do was leave her, but – "I don't want to accidentally hurt you."

"Please," she begged. "I don't want to be alone."

"All right. I'll stay." And he did. He didn't sleep, though. He was too scared of hurting her. He held her, gingerly, until dawn, then carefully slipped away. He couldn't sleep, not now, so he went down to the kitchen and brooded over a cup of tea.

Sharona found him there, looking haggard and pale. "Hi, Adrian," she said, surprised to see him downstairs so early, and still in his pajamas. "You okay?"

"Not really," he said glumly.

Concerned, Sharona sat down at the table with him. "What's wrong?"

"Natalie had a nightmare last night," he said. "I think – from what it sounded like, she was remembering the crash."

Sharona winced in sympathy. "Is she okay?"

"I think so. She was in pain for a while, though, and I didn't know what to do." He looked at her, helplessly. "All I could do was – was just sit there with her. And then she asked me to stay, and I did, but I was too scared to sleep. I didn't want to fall asleep and accidentally hurt her."

Sharona touched his arm. "Adrian, you're not going to hurt her if you share the bed," she said kindly. "She's not made of glass. It'd take a lot more than an accidental bump to cause any serious damage."

"Are you sure?" he said uncertainly.

"I'm a professional, aren't I?" she said with a smile. "And for future reference, an ice pack and some ibuprofen might help if she's feeling discomfort in the middle of the night. Maybe even a cup of tea to help her calm down."

He nodded, relieved to at least have some ideas in case it happened again. "Okay. I'll remember."

"Do you want me to spend the night tonight?" she asked. "Just in case?"

It was on the tip of his tongue to say yes, but instead he shook his head. "No. I can handle it. I just – I should have been prepared, and I wasn't."

"Don't beat yourself up about it," she said, squeezing his arm consolingly. "You did the best you could. And it sounds like you got in there, you made sure she was okay, and then you stayed with her while she calmed down. You did just fine."

"Maybe," he said, but he didn't look convinced.

"Why don't you go upstairs and try to get some more sleep?" she urged. "I can take care of everything here."

Suddenly, sleep sounded like a wonderful idea. "Okay," he sighed. "I think I will. Thanks for listening, Sharona."

"Anytime," she said with a smile. "You know I'm always here for you, right?"

"Yeah, I know." He smiled too, then surprised her with a spontaneous hug.

"Go on," she said, slightly embarrassed, but enormously pleased. "Go back to bed."

She followed him up the stairs so she could check on Natalie. She was still sleeping, and apparently peacefully, so Sharona left her to rest and went back downstairs.

Adrian woke a few hours later, feeling much better. He showered and dressed, then looked in on Natalie. She was awake, propped up in bed, picking at a breakfast tray. She hadn't eaten much, and she looked pale and worn-out.

"Hey," he said, coming into the room and sitting gingerly on the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired," she admitted. "And sore."

"I'll bet." He rubbed her knee, very gently.

"How about you?" she asked, her head lolling against the pillow.

"I'm not the one who had the nightmare."

"No, you're just the one who sprinted in here like the house was on fire and then stayed with me the rest of the night."

"Just preparing for my job as your devoted husband."

His comment elicited a genuine smile from her. "'My husband.' I like the sound of that."

He liked the sound of it too, very much. Suddenly, he was glad they still had a chance of getting married in June instead of having to wait several more months beyond that. "You up to doing a little wedding planning today?" he asked.

She regarded him curiously. "Why?"

"I was thinking you could call Cassandra and update her. If she has time, maybe she could come over and you two could get back to it – assuming you're feeling strong enough."

She smiled. "You're trying to distract me."

"Is it working?" he asked hopefully.

"Maybe." But she'd perked up, and she started in on her breakfast with renewed enthusiasm.

There was a knock on the door, and Sharona poked her head in. "Adrian, the captain's on the phone for you," she said, holding out his cell.

"Oh, thanks." He stepped out into the hallway to take the call as Sharona slipped past him into Natalie's room.

"You look much better than you did ten minutes ago," Sharona declared, eyeing Natalie with a pleased expression. "Maybe I should prescribe more regular doses of Adrian."

Natalie smiled, her cheeks pinking slightly. "He tends to have that effect on me."

Sharona left the room as Adrian came back in, his expression apologetic. "I have a case. I need to go."

Natalie felt a slight pang of regret. _I have a case_ , he'd said, not _We have a case._

He came over and kissed her cheek, then stroked her face gently. "I promise I'll come home and tell you all about it," he said, apparently understanding her feelings.

"I'd say, 'Have fun,' but I suppose that's not really appropriate at the moment," she said, grinning at him.

He grinned back. "Probably not." He kissed her again, and reluctantly backed away. "See you later."

"Bye," she called as he left. She finished her breakfast, still feeling a little despondent, and decided to cheer herself up by following Adrian's earlier suggestion and calling Cassandra.

"Hi, Cassandra, it's Natalie," she said when her friend answered.

"Natalie! Hi! Oh, it's so great to hear from you! How are you feeling?" Cassandra exclaimed, genuine pleasure in her voice.

"I'm doing pretty well, all things considered," Natalie said. "I was hoping I could set up an appointment with you, as soon as possible, so we can get back on track."

"Actually, I had a cancellation earlier today, so I could come by this afternoon. How's two o'clock sound?"

"Perfect," Natalie said, smiling.

"Your place or Adrian's?" Cassandra asked.

"Oh — um, actually, we're living together now," she said, flushing a little as she said that out loud for the first time. "At my house. _Our_ house. I'm still on bed rest, so…"

"Well, I'll be sure to bring all your stuff with me — and I'll update my records with his new address. See you at two!"

"See you then," she said, and hung up, feeling pleased. She knew her parents were planning on coming by after lunch, which worked out perfectly — her mother could meet Cassandra and see all of the wedding plans so far.

Sharona came back in and nodded at the empty breakfast tray approvingly. "Good job."

"Cassandra's coming over at two," Natalie told her happily. Sharona knew all about Cassandra, having insisted on being apprised of all the wedding details by phone and e-mail since Adrian and Natalie's initial engagement.

"I can't wait to meet her," Sharona said, smiling at Natalie's obvious excitement. She cocked her head and pursed her lips. "In that case, we should try washing your hair this morning, and do a sponge bath. And if we get _really_ ambitious, maybe some make-up."

"Next you'll be telling me I can get dressed in actual clothing," Natalie joked.

"Whoa there, Tex, let's not go too far." Sharona winked at her. "But we can change you into one of your fancier pajama sets." She rolled up the sleeves of her scrubs. "All right, let's get to work."


	21. Chapter 21

Natalie was amazed at how much the simple act of washing her hair — something she hadn't done since the morning of the accident — improved her spirits. It hadn't been easy, but Sharona had figured out how to have her lean over the bathtub while resting her torso against an inflatable pillow, and she had taped plastic wrap over the stitches on her forehead. Together, they had managed the task with a modicum of fuss.

Now, instead of having lank, oily, dull hair, she had hair that was shiny, soft, and smelled of her favorite jasmine-scented shampoo and conditioner. She yearned for the day when she could take a long, hot bath or even a long, steamy shower again, but that was still at least two weeks away, according to Sharona; her surgical incision needed more time to heal.

It felt odd spending so much time with Sharona, and being so dependent on her — dependent to a degree that even Adrian hadn't been while Sharona had been _his_ nurse/assistant. Sharona needed to help her to the bathroom, bring her food, drinks, and medication, change her bandages, adjust her pillows — anything that required moving a more than a little bit.

She'd been a little skeptical when Adrian and her father had told her about hiring Sharona to be her nurse, but, Natalie had to admit, Sharona was very professional about it, and clearly very experienced at her job. It was easier having her around than a complete stranger, especially for Adrian's sake. Any other nurse would have balked at his OCD tendencies, but to Sharona, they were old hat. In fact, Sharona had told Natalie that she was impressed at how much he'd improved. He spent far less time compulsively cleaning than he had when Sharona had been in his employ.

Sharona helped her down the stairs and onto the couch shortly before two. She carefully arranged her pillows, then made sure Natalie had a fresh cold pack for her ribs, a glass of water, and some ibuprofen within arm's reach, just in case.

"Thanks," Natalie said gratefully. "You're going to stick around, aren't you?"

"If you want me to, sure," Sharona said, pleased to be included. The doorbell rang a moment later, and she hopped up to answer, admitting Cassandra into the room a moment later. "Hi, I'm Sharona Fleming," she said, shaking Cassandra's hand. "I'm Natalie's nurse. And a friend, too."

"And a bridesmaid," Natalie chimed in, from the couch.

"Oh, you're THAT Sharona? It's so nice to meet you!" Cassandra wore a lavender skirt suit with an ivory blouse underneath. Her silky black hair swung loosely around her face as she enthusiastically shook Sharona's hand. She carried a bulky beige leather messenger bag, which she dumped by the coffee table as she went to gingerly hug Natalie.

"You look great!" Cassandra said, her dark, almond-shaped eyes earnest. "You really do!"

"Thanks," Natalie said. It was nice to hear, even though she knew it wasn't strictly true — the scrapes and bruises on her face had faded, but they were still visible, and her forehead laceration stood out like a beacon. She'd thought about covering it up with a bandage, but Sharona had advised to keep it exposed to the open air in order to facilitate healing.

Cassandra took a seat on the wingback chair next to the couch. "Ready to get started?"

"My parents are on their way, and I'd like to wait for my mother — " Natalie began.

"I think they're here," Sharona said, peering out the window.

Sure enough, Peggy and Bobby came in a moment later. Peggy was dressed immaculately, as she almost always was, in an expensive pale pink pantsuit. Bobby was a bit more casual in khakis and a pale yellow polo shirt. They kissed Natalie hello, and she introduced Cassandra to them.

"Uh oh," Bobby said, his eyes twinkling. "If it's going to become wedding planning central in here, I think I'll go take a walk."

"Have fun, Dad," Natalie said with a grin. Sharona disappeared into the kitchen to make coffee, and Peggy announced she needed to visit the bathroom to freshen up.

As they left, Cassandra opened her messenger bag and hefted a large binder. "Here's your wedding book," she said, carefully placing it on Natalie's lap. "It should be just as you left it."

"That's a relief," Natalie said, opening it with pleasure. "Did you look through it at all?"

"I did," Cassandra said, pulling her laptop out of her bag and firing it up, "and I updated your file with what you'd marked as settled — the invitation wording, the cake, and so on. But the invitations, of course, are still on hold until you say otherwise."

"If you want, you can give the printer a _tentative_ date of four weeks from now," Natalie said, sighing, "but that still may be subject to change. It depends on my progress, unfortunately." She shifted, moving her ice pack up slightly. "I'm going to have a check-up in two weeks, and again two weeks after that, and if I'm not making adequate improvement with my recovery we may need to push the wedding date back a few months. But I'm hoping that won't be the case."

Cassandra made a note. "I think the printer will be able to work with us on that. Do you have another date in mind, if June fourth doesn't work out?"

"Not yet," Natalie said. "Maybe July, but it could be as late as October. I need to talk more with Adrian about it."

"How's he doing?" Cassandra asked, busily typing.

"He's… fine, I guess," Natalie said, slightly startled by the question. Everyone always asked how she was doing; few people inquired about Adrian's well-being.

"I felt awful for him," Cassandra said with sympathy. "He looked _so_ wrecked that day I was at his apartment."

That must have been the morning after her accident, Natalie supposed.

"I'd never seen him like that before," Cassandra continued. "Usually he looks so snappy and put-together, you know? But he opened the door and I thought — well, I don't know what I thought. I was just so shocked to see him looking so… so _unkempt_. Then he told me what had happened to you, and he said that he'd spent the whole night at the hospital. I felt really horrible that I'd woken him up."

Natalie smiled, a little sadly. "I'm sure the appointment was the last thing on his mind."

"Oh, no doubt," Cassandra agreed. "I'm so glad he let me make him breakfast. He was — "

"Wait, what?" Natalie interrupted.

"He didn't tell you?" Cassandra laughed. "I asked him if there was anything I could do to help, but all he asked of me was to take your wedding stuff for safekeeping. But when he mentioned he was going to eat something, I volunteered to make him breakfast while he took a shower and changed clothes – I think he'd slept in the ones he was wearing; they were all wrinkled. It took me four tries to get his egg right, and even then I'm not sure it was very good, but he was gracious about it."

"You made him his favorite breakfast?" Natalie said, her heart practically melting in her chest. "That was so sweet of you."

"Well, gosh, I wanted to do _something_ to cheer him up, poor guy. I just hope it helped."

"I'm sure it did," Natalie said warmly, just as Sharona came over with a tray of coffee and cups. Peggy came back in as well.

"Okay," Cassandra said, studying her monitor. "Let's review what we have decided so far…"

The planning continued for an hour more, then Cassandra had to leave for another appointment. To Natalie's surprise, her mother had very accommodating, not once trying to throw her weight around or force her own opinions. But that may have been due to Cassandra's tactful approach of asking her perspective on every detail, right down to the cocktail napkins, which flattered Peggy to no end. Or perhaps Peggy herself had realized that the quickest way to get shut out of her only daughter's wedding — again — was to act as she had before, and was making an effort to restrain herself.

After Cassandra left, Sharona insisted that Natalie take a nap. Natalie, who was feeling more wiped out than she'd anticipated, didn't argue.

* * *

Natalie woke, suddenly, to the feel of a hand on her hair. She gasped, startled, and Adrian drew back his hand.

"Sorry," he apologized. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"That's okay," she said, grimacing slightly from the pain in her ribs as she relaxed back onto her pillows. She noticed the room was much dimmer than it had been when she'd fallen asleep. "What time is it?"

"Just after six," he said.

No wonder she'd woken up — she'd been asleep for nearly three hours.

"Where's Sharona?"

"I told her to go home for the night."

"Are my parents still here?"

"They said they were going to go get some take-out for supper."

She suddenly noticed that he looked exhausted — and sad, too. "Are you okay?"

He gingerly sat on the couch. "The case was… well, horrible."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He shook his head. "It was brutal. You don't need those images in your head." He shuddered slightly. "I know I promised I'd tell you all about it, but I won't. I'm actually glad you couldn't be a part of this one."

She was even more concerned now. It was rare that a case affected him like this. Then again, he'd been under an enormous amount of stress lately. He'd been handling it remarkably well, but he was only human.

Her worrying was interrupted by the arrival of her parents, who came bearing take-out boxes of Chinese food. She ate, but kept a careful eye on Adrian, who only picked at his food and brooded over it. After her parents had left and the house was quiet, he helped her upstairs and into bed.

"Will you stay with me for a little while?" she asked, more because she didn't think _he_ should be alone right now.

"Of course," he said, and settled himself on the bed next to her. Moving very slowly and carefully, she eased next to him so she could lay her head on his chest, tucking a pillow between them to support her sore ribs. His arm came around her, very gently, and he rested his cheek on her hair.

They cuddled in silence. After a long while, he sighed with contentment and kissed the top of her head. "You smell like flowers," he murmured.

"Sharona figured out how to wash my hair," she said, idly playing with his fingers. "Cassandra came over so I wanted to look somewhat presentable."

"Did you have a good time?" He closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of her fingers rubbing his palm.

"It was a lot of fun," she said. "We talked about the food for the reception and a few other things."

He let his head loll against the pillows. "What are we having again?" He vaguely remembered discussing reception entree choices with her the night of her accident, before everything had gone to hell, but he was so tired at the moment that he couldn't remember what they'd talked about.

"We're going Italian. The main course is a choice between chicken cacciatore and or veal parmigiana, and there's also the option of fettuccine alfredo for any vegetarians."

"Right. I love chicken cacciatore," he said, his eyes still closed.

"I know you do," she grinned. It had been Trudy's favorite, so now it was his. "The sides are green beans almondine and garlic mashed potatoes, and we'll have warm yeast rolls too. Plus Caesar salad to start with."

"Sounds delicious." He yawned. "I'll bet Cassandra was happy to see you."

"I think so." Which reminded her of something else. "You didn't tell me that she made you breakfast."

"Huh?" His eyes opened and he blinked a few times, his eyes cloudy with confusion. Then they cleared. "Oh, right. That was the morning after… everything happened."

"I thought it was sweet."

"It was a really nice gesture," he agreed. "I hadn't eaten anything since supper with you the night before, and I was starving."

"She said you looked like you'd slept in your clothes."

"Probably because I had."

She craned her head to look up at him. "You _never_ sleep in your clothes." He either wore pajamas or, if they'd made love prior to going to sleep, nothing at all.

He shrugged. "I did that morning. When I got home, I was so exhausted that I just collapsed."

"Poor guy," she said, echoing Cassandra's earlier lament.

He snorted. "I wasn't the one in intensive care at the time."

"Still," she said, settling her head against his chest again, "I'm sorry this has been so rough on you."

"You're not blaming yourself for that, are you?" he said, frowning.

"No," she said, her tone pragmatic. "I just wish I could take care of you as well as you're taking care of me right now."

He chuckled at that. "You took care of me constantly for _years_ , and you did an amazing job of it, too. It's about time I returned the favor." He kissed the top of her head. "And you're taking care of me right now. It helps, just laying here and holding you."

She smiled. "I'm glad it helps."

He kissed her again. "I'm going to go change into my pajamas, and then I'll be back."

Later that evening, when he was sound asleep next to her, she turned on the TV — the volume set low so as not to disturb him — and watched for a possible mention of his case from today on the ten o'clock news. The newscaster only reported one homicide, a gruesome torture-murder — with a source reporting possible decapitation as the cause of death — involving a young woman around Julie's age. She was glad to hear that a suspect was in custody already, which was probably why Adrian had spent most of the day working on it. No wonder he'd been so upset when he got home.

She turned off the TV, took her evening medication — handily arranged on the bedside table for her convenience — and positioned her pillows so she could lay beside him in relative comfort. She drifted to sleep while holding his hand.


	22. Chapter 22

The days crawled slowly by for Natalie. She tried to keep herself entertained with wedding planning, including surfing the Internet for inspiration, as well as writing thank-you notes to everyone who had sent her flowers, called, or visited while she was in the hospital. Books, movies, and crossword puzzles helped too.

As the days went on, her ribs hurt less, and while that seemed to be a good sign, it also made her more restless, and she was sorely tempted to get out of bed and increase her activity level. Mindful of Dr. Harmon's and Dr. Hector's dictates, however, and faced with the prospect of postponing the wedding if she did something stupid and relapsed, she behaved herself and stayed quietly in bed or on the couch.

Visitors helped. Her parents came every day. Cassandra dropped by often, even if only ten minutes or so, just to say hi, in addition to the longer wedding planning sessions. Julie came as often as her busy schedule allowed — she was in the midst of performing in the spring musical at Berkeley, and it was _killing_ Natalie that she couldn't go see it — and T.K. came by several times, often bringing Leland along. Randy was a frequent visitor, too, stopping in to chat with her while dropping off or picking up Sharona, since the two of them only had one vehicle at the moment.

But her most surprising visitors arrived on her eighth day home. Natalie was in fairly good spirits, having survived two full weeks of bed rest (one in the hospital, and one at home). She was counting down the days until Friday, when she had her two-week post-discharge check-up with Dr. Harmon. She had high hopes that he'd lift the bed rest and put her on restricted activity, meaning she could get out of bed during the day and actually leave the house occasionally.

It was Sunday, and Adrian and Natalie had decided to give Sharona the day off, assuring her that they could handle themselves without her for a day. Peggy and Bobby had decided to spend the weekend on a winery tour somewhere a few hours north, and Julie was in the midst of her final performance in the Berkeley musical. Adrian had gone to see the show, with her parents, on its opening night, and had come home beaming like a proud father — which, in a way, he was, Natalie thought fondly. And while one of the performances was being professionally filmed, and Julie had promised to bring her a copy the moment there was one available, it just wasn't the same. Julie had tried to console her by saying that she sincerely hoped it wouldn't be her last musical, and that Natalie could attend the one next year.

They were lounging on the couch mid-morning. Adrian was stretched out with his head in Natalie's lap, reading a newspaper; Natalie absently played with his hair as she leafed through a wedding magazine.

A knock at the door startled them both. Adrian rose to answer, and when he opened the door, he was struck temporarily dumb.

Ambrose Monk was standing on the doorstep, a fact which was astonishing in and of itself. But what was even more surprising was the man who accompanied him.

It was Jack Monk, Sr., his and Ambrose's father.

Adrian hadn't seen his father in several years, not since their semi-disastrous (no pun intended) road trip together. Jack had phoned since then, but the calls were always few and far between. Occasionally Adrian would get a postcard from some far-off locale, one that looked like it'd been purchased in a truck stop somewhere, with a few scribbles on it. The last he'd received had been three months ago, from Boulder, Colorado, and had simply said, "Very pretty here. Big mountains. Hope you're doing well. Dad." Ambrose, apparently, received similar cards.

"Hello, Adrian," Ambrose said, meeting his brother's shocked eyes squarely. "May we come in?" He was clutching a bouquet of cheerful white daisies and a wrapped box. Jack said nothing, but raised his eyebrows in a questioning gesture.

"I — uh — yes, of course," Adrian said, recovering his powers of speech.

As they stepped in, Natalie sat up straighter, wincing slightly as she did so. "Ambrose!" she said in obvious delight.

"Hello, Natalie," Ambrose said, making a beeline for her. He offered her the flowers, and set the box he held carefully at her side.

"They're beautiful," she said, sniffing the daisies with pleasure. "I loved the flowers you sent me in the hospital, too."

"I know; I got your thank-you card," Ambrose said, beaming.

Natalie regarded him with pride. "I can't believe you're actually here! Ambrose, you left your house!"

"I wanted to see you," he said bashfully. "I've been worried."

"I'm just fine," she assured him. "Still on bed rest until Friday, but hopefully not much longer after that." She looked over his shoulder as Jack Monk approached.

"The package is from me," the older man said, indicating the wrapped box at her side.

"Thank you," Natalie said awkwardly. She barely knew Jack, having only met him once for a few minutes, and frankly she still felt some anger towards him for how he had abandoned his family and only reappeared in Adrian's life when he needed something from him. But, for both Adrian's and Ambrose's sake, she would try to be civil.

She unwrapped the box and smiled at the contents — assorted chocolate truffles — although her smile was a little stilted. "My favorite."

Jack grinned. "So Ambrose said."

Adrian had shut the door and was standing nearby, looking as nervous as Natalie felt.

"We would have called," Jack added, "but Ambrose wanted to surprise you."

"It's a very pleasant surprise," Natalie said, her smile deepening into genuine warmth as she looked at her future brother-in-law.

"Adrian, why don't you and I go out back and talk while Natalie and Ambrose visit?" Jack said abruptly.

Natalie and Adrian exchanged a glance. "All right," Adrian acquiesced, figuring it was best to find out what his father wanted as soon as possible. He couldn't figure out any other motive for this unexpected social call.

He led his father out the door to Natalie's — to _their_ small backyard patio. He was still accustomed to thinking of the house and its things as Natalie's, not theirs. "Do you want a glass of water or… something?" he asked awkwardly.

"Nah, I'm good," Jack said, settling into one of the patio chairs.

Adrian took the one opposite him. "So, what brings you here?"

Jack looked at him reproachfully. "You get engaged and you don't even _call_ me?"

Adrian looked surprised at this. "I'm not accustomed to calling you," he said, not maliciously, but with the tone of one stating a simple fact.

His father shook his head, looking disgruntled. "I shouldn't find out news like that secondhand."

"The phone works both ways… Dad," Adrian said testily.

Jack had the grace to look ashamed. "I know I don't call as often as I should, but…"

"For what it's worth, the last time I called, I got a message saying that the number was no longer in service," Adrian mentioned mildly.

"What?" Jack looked blank. "Didn't I give you my new number?"

Adrian shook his head.

"Ambrose has it. Why didn't you ask him?"

"I didn't think of it." At Jack's skeptical expression, Adrian shrugged. "It's true."

"I didn't know you'd moved, either," Jack said, his expression accusatory.

"It just happened last week," Adrian said defensively. "And my life has been a little hectic lately."

At that, Jack's face softened into an expression of sympathy. "Yeah, I know. I'm sorry. But she's going to be okay, right?"

Adrian nodded. "Yeah."

"So, how long have you two been… together?" Jack asked. "You didn't say anything about being romantically involved with her the last time I talked to you."

"Just since New Year's Eve," Adrian said.

Jack nodded, but didn't seem surprised. "You move fast. When's the wedding?"

"Probably June fourth."

He raised his eyebrows. "Probably?"

Adrian shrugged. "It depends on Natalie's recovery. We're going to make a final decision about whether or not to postpone in a few weeks."

Jack sat back in his chair. "Were you planning on inviting me?"

Adrian looked at him steadily. "We didn't know where to send the invitation."

"Well, you can send it to your brother's house."

Adrian eyed him warily. "Are you planning on staying long?"

"I'm planning on staying permanently."

"What?" Adrian felt his own jaw drop in shock and snapped his mouth shut. "What are you talking about?"

"I've decided to retire from trucking," Jack told him. "I'm going to live with Ambrose from now on, and find a job here in San Francisco."

Adrian's back stiffened. "I don't think that's a good idea," he said, keeping his voice quiet with effort.

Jack's brow furrowed. "Why not?"

"It nearly destroyed Ambrose when you left the first time," Adrian said, speaking through clenched teeth. "You'll finish the job when you leave again."

Jack leaned forward, his hands clamped tightly on the arms of the patio chair. "I just finished telling you that I'm here permanently. I'm not leaving."

"So you say," Adrian said grimly. "But your track record isn't exactly stellar."

Jack winced at that. "Look, I know I've made mistakes, but — "

"Leaving your family without a word of explanation is more than just a 'mistake,'" Adrian responded coldly. "You can't expect just to waltz back into our lives and — "

"I know, I know," Jack interrupted. "Look, I — " He sighed, raking his hands through his hair. It was much shorter than it had been three years ago, when Adrian had last seen him. "I'm not proud of what I did, or how I did it. But I can't take it back. I can't erase what happened."

"Maybe not, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't have to live with the consequences."

"So you want me to be punished for it for the rest of my life?" Jack asked. "I don't get a second chance?"

"What have you done to earn one?" Adrian countered.

"I came back, didn't I?" Jack protested. "I asked to see you."

Adrian's expression was scornful. "Only so I could fix your traffic ticket."

"And the trip we took together? That doesn't matter?"

Adrian crossed his arms. "We took that trip because you wanted to keep your job, not because you were genuinely interested in making amends."

"Well, I am now." Jack crossed _his_ arms in a gesture nearly identical to his son's.

"Why?" Adrain asked simply.

Jack looked down, his lips tightening in a firm line. "I've been in a pretty bad place for a while," he confessed. "Mentally, I mean. Ever since our trip, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you kids… and your mom… and all the things I'd missed. Then I heard Jack Jr. was in prison, and it made things worse. I was feeling like a failure — as a father and as a human being." Jack rested his elbows on his knees, studying the cement beneath his chair. "Things got so bad that I was starting to think of… you know… ending it all."

Adrian slowly uncrossed his arms and sat up. "Why didn't you?" he asked quietly.

"About a month ago, I was at a truck stop in Wyoming, and I came across a fella who had just come through California. There was nasty weather going on outside, lots of wind and snow, and we were both biding our time until the weather cleared. He had a newspaper with him, one he'd picked up in San Francisco, and he gave it to me to read when he was finished with it." Jack looked up and chuckled softly. "Imagine my surprise when I saw an article about my son, former detective Adrian Monk, getting engaged."

That damn _Dispatch_ article again. Adrian had to restrain himself from rolling his eyes.

"It made me start thinking," Jack continued. "About second chances. I guess I figured that if you were lucky enough to get one, maybe I could, too. That maybe it wasn't too late to be a father to you and Ambrose." He shrugged, embarrassed. "So I decided to come back. I got my affairs in order, gave notice at my job, and showed up on Ambrose's doorstep yesterday afternoon."

"And you're planning to stay," Adrian said flatly. It wasn't a question.

Jack nodded. "I'm planning to stay. I'd really like make it to your wedding this time around. Get to know my daughter-in-law." He grinned suddenly. "Maybe see some grandchildren?"

Adrian stared at Jack in disbelief. First Dr. Bell and now his father? What was going on? "I doubt it," he said curtly.

Jack's smile faded. "Why not? You're not _that_ old. And Natalie's a good bit younger than you, isn't she?"

"That's not — it doesn't — " Adrian blew out a breath. "I just don't think I'd make a very good father," he admitted.

"What?" Jack seemed genuinely astonished. "Why do you say that?"

Adrian met his eyes squarely, and told the barefaced truth. "I'm afraid I'd be like you."

To his credit, Jack neither flinched nor turned away, although his eyes darkened with pain. "You're a much better man than I ever was, Adrian, or ever will be. You'd never run out on someone who needed you — no matter what happened."

The two men gazed at each other in silence. Then Ambrose's timid voice interrupted them from the back door. "Dad? Adrian? I made some coffee, if you want some."

Jack smiled cheerfully at his oldest son. "Sounds great. We'll be right in."

* * *

Natalie could hardly contain her excitement. "You're coming to the wedding? Really?"

Ambrose nodded, although his smile was nervous. "Dad says he'll come with me. I think… if he's there, I think I can handle it."

"We'll practice getting out of the house every week, just to get you used to it," Jack said, sipping from his coffee cup. "By the time the wedding comes around, it won't be a problem."

Adrian was less sure of that, but he had to appreciate the confidence his father was showing. And the fact that Ambrose himself had voluntarily left the house today after their father had suggested a visit to Natalie boded well. He wondered if a similar show of confidence might help his brother further. "Do you think you could handle a little more than that, Ambrose?"

Three heads turned toward him inquiringly. "I'm not sure what you mean, Adrian," Ambrose said.

"Well — " Adrian hesitated for the briefest of moments, then took the plunge. "If you're planning to be there, I was hoping — that is, I wanted to know if you would — if you think you could be my best man."

Natalie stifled a gasp of delight.

Ambrose's eyes went wide, and he blinked at his brother several times before answering. "Y-you want _me_ to be your best man?"

Adrian nodded. "If you think you can manage standing up in front of a room full of people during the ceremony," he said honestly. "If not, I'll understand, and I'll be happy just to have you there as a guest."

"I — I — " Ambrose sputtered. "I don't know what to say."

"Say yes," Jack Monk suggested, smiling broadly.

Ambrose looked from his brother to his father and back again. "Yes," he said, sounding dazed. "I accept."

Natalie clapped her hands together. " _Thank_ _you_ , Ambrose. That makes us both _very_ happy." She had an ear-to-ear smile and her eyes were shining.

Jack eyed her admiringly. His son had picked a looker, that was for sure. "It's settled, then," he said. "We can start practicing for that, too."

Adrian shifted in his chair. He didn't like the way his father was looking at Natalie. "Ambrose, if you'd prefer not to give a toast at the reception, I can ask Leland to do it."

"I think that'd be for the best," Ambrose said, looking immensely relieved. Standing up in front of people was one thing; having to _speak_ in front of them was quite another.

"Leland's going to handle the bachelor party too," Natalie added, her eyes dancing with humor.

"I look forward to it," Jack said with a grin.

"I don't," Adrian said ruefully. "I tried to tell him that I didn't want a bachelor party, but he wouldn't listen."

"Technically, you're not a bachelor," Ambrose mentioned. "The term 'bachelor' refers to a man who has never been married."

Adrian's eyes lit up. "That's a good point. Maybe I can use that to — "

"I doubt it," Natalie said, grinning. "You threw _him_ a bachelor party even though he'd been married before."

"Hmmm," Adrian frowned. "That's a problem. I set a precedent."

"Don't worry about it," Natalie said reassuringly. "Leland isn't going to plan something ridiculous with strippers and booze, because that isn't your style. Just trust him."

"Listen to her, Adrian," Jack said. "It sounds like she knows what she's talking about."

"Thank you," Natalie said, giving him a genuine smile for the first time all morning.

They chatted for a while longer, but finally Ambrose said it was time they were getting back home.

"Did you drive here?" Adrian asked his father.

"We took a cab," Jack answered. "I don't have a car, not yet, anyway. The rig that I drove belonged to the company, so I just took the bus to San Francisco. I'm going to buy a car in the next few weeks, if I can find a decent used one."

"I'll drive you home," Adrian said, rising from his chair. "That way you don't have to bother with a taxi."

"That's right, Ambrose told me about the new wheels," Jack said approvingly. "Well, I'll take you up on that offer."

Adrian knelt next to the couch. "You'll be okay alone for a little while?" he asked Natalie.

She smiled. "Of course. I'll be fine."

"Call my cell if you need anything," he said, kissing her cheek tenderly.

"I will," she promised.

Jack watched the byplay with interest. Adrian seemed to transform into an entirely different man in that moment — one who was warm and affectionate instead of aloof and reserved. He liked the change, very much, and wondered if his son would ever act that way with him instead of holding him at arms-length.

Adrian grabbed his wallet and car keys, and ushered his father and brother out the door. Natalie whiled away the time he was gone by flipping through bridal magazines, with an old Fred Astaire movie on the TV for background noise.

He returned a little over an hour later, bearing a mango and passionfruit smoothie from her favorite smoothie bar. "You spoil me," she said, accepting it happily.

"It was on the way," he said, settling down on the couch next to her.

She eyed him as she sipped. He looked worried, she thought — worried in a way he hadn't been before he'd talked with his father. "What did you and your dad talk about?" she asked casually.

He shrugged. "He says he's moved back here — permanently."

Natalie nodded. Ambrose had told her the same thing. "What do you think about that?"

"I don't know." He absently fiddled with his car keys. "He _seems_ sincere, but — "

"You don't trust him," Natalie supplied.

Adrian shook his head. "Not really."

Natalie shifted into a more comfortable position. "Ambrose said he was talking about finding a job, and he mentioned buying a car earlier. Those are good signs, don't you think?"

"He had a job and car the last time he left, too." Adrian traced the logo on the key fob with his finger. "It's not me I'm concerned about. I survived it the last time he left, and I'll survive it if he leaves again. But Ambrose… might not."

"Ambrose is stronger than you give him credit for," Natalie said quietly.

"Maybe." But Adrian didn't look convinced.

She reached over to link her hand in his. "Thank you for asking him to be your best man."

Adrian smiled at that. "I thought the vote of confidence might help. I just hope he's able to do it."

"He will. But we can ask Leland to be an emergency back-up, just in case."

He raised their joined hands to his lips and kissed her fingers. "If Ambrose is going to be my best man, that means that you still need to find another bridesmaid so I can ask Jonathan to be a groomsman."

"I know," Natalie sighed. "Actually… I was thinking of asking Cassandra."

Adrian looked surprised for a moment, then smiled. "That's a good idea."

"You think so? I thought it might be kind of weird since she's the wedding coordinator, and I know we haven't known her that long, but… I already consider her a close friend, and the other bridesmaids love her too. Plus I think Jonathan might like her."

He raised his eyebrows at that. "Are you playing matchmaker?"

"No!" Her cheeks pinked slightly. "Well… maybe a little."

"I think you should ask her. I bet she'll say yes."

"I hope so. We have an appointment tomorrow, so I'll talk to her about it then." Natalie glanced at the wedding binder on the coffee table. "That reminds me — she wants to know our back-up wedding date, just in case."

He considered, then slanted a look in her direction. "I _really_ don't want to wait until October if June doesn't work out."

She wrinkled her nose. "July is too hot."

"The average high temperature in July is 73 degrees," he protested. "That's not too hot."

"Mr. Walking Almanac," she muttered.

"July thirtieth," he proposed. "It's a Friday, just like June fourth. And it's far enough out where you should be fully healed."

"And it's a multiple of ten," she said with a knowing smile.

He grinned. "Well, that too."

She sighed. "All right. I'll tell her July thirtieth as a back-up, just in case." She pointed at him. "But my money is still on June fourth."

He didn't doubt that, given how stubborn she was. "Agreed."

"Now that we have that settled," she said, reaching over for the gift bag of DVDs her mother had given her, "let's watch a movie."

"You have something in mind?"

She pulled out the copy of _When Harry Met Sally._ "As a matter of fact…"


	23. Chapter 23

As Natalie had hoped, Cassandra was thrilled to be asked to be a bridesmaid. "I'd _love_ to," she beamed.

"It won't cause a conflict of interest or anything like that with the Four Seasons, will it?" Natalie asked anxiously. "I wasn't sure if it'd be a problem."

"Oh, not at all," Cassandra said, dismissing her concern with a wave of her hand. "There's nothing in my contract that says I can't be in the wedding party of the weddings I coordinate."

"Good," Natalie said, relieved.

"So who gets to be my escort?" Cassandra asked, typing the information into her laptop.

"My brother, Jonathan Davenport."

"Older brother or younger brother?"

"Younger."

"Is he single?"

Natalie laughed. "As a matter of fact, he is."

Cassandra studied her expression. "Previous marriages?"

"Sort of."

"Sort of?" Cassandra repeated, raising her eyebrows.

Natalie gave a short version of the circumstances of Jonathan's disastrous wedding from several years ago. He'd petitioned for a civil annulment shortly thereafter, which had been granted, so technically he'd never been married at all in the eyes of the state — or as far as the Davenports were concerned.

"Poor guy," Cassandra said sympathetically. "That had to be awful for him."

"It kind of soured him on relationships," Natalie admitted. "I don't think he's had a serious girlfriend since."

"Hmmm." Cassandra made a note in her file, then gave Natalie a sidewise glance. "Is he cute?"

She smiled. "I'm biased because he's my baby brother, but I think so." She pulled up a picture on her phone that Jonathan had texted her recently, and showed it to Cassandra.

"Oh, he _is_ cute." Cassandra winked at her. "Excellent news for me."

"We've also definitively decided on the best man," Natalie said. "Adrian's brother, Ambrose Monk."

"He's the one with… what is it, arachnophobia?"

"Agoraphobia," Natalie corrected, grinning. "But his father is coming with, so he thinks he can handle it. Which reminds me, we'll have to add Adrian's father to the guest list — Jack Monk, Sr., same address as Ambrose."

"Adrian's _father_?" Cassandra said, even as she updated the list. "I thought he was… out of the picture."

"Apparently, he's back in," Natalie said. "For now, anyway. But Adrian is going to ask Leland to be an emergency back-up for best man, just in case… something happens… and Ambrose can't manage."

"Good plan. Speaking of back-ups, any progress on an alternate wedding date?"

"July thirtieth, if that works."

Cassandra pulled up a calendar and studied it. "You're in luck — it's still free. I'll put it in as tentative for now."

" _Very_ tentative," Natalie said determinedly.

"Absolutely," Cassandra agreed, hiding a smile.

* * *

Natalie felt extremely odd going back to the hospital on Friday, and odder still to be dressed in regular clothes — in this case, jeans and a blue button-down shirt — after three weeks in pajamas and nightgowns, save her trip home from the hospital.

Wearing a bra felt _really_ strange.

She almost felt like an escapee from prison as she slid into the backseat of the car. "I think I can manage to buckle myself in," she told Adrian as he moved to help her.

He backed off, a little reluctantly. "All right," he said mildly, getting into the driver's seat.

Sharona gave her a slightly chiding look as she settled into the front passenger seat. _He was just trying to help_ , Natalie could almost hear her say.

Natalie rolled her eyes as she fastened her seat belt. She was three weeks out from the accident, and her ribs were feeling much better. She'd obediently stayed in bed or on the couch, taken all her medication, done all of the prescribed breathing exercises to help strengthen her collapsed lung, and she hadn't complained… much. But she was beyond ready to be done with all of the fuss and worry. Okay, she still felt tired a lot, there were still twinges of pain in her ribs, and occasionally it was hard to breathe, but otherwise she felt _fine_.

She was sent directly to X-ray after they arrived, and once that ordeal was over the three of them waited in an exam room for Dr. Harmon. He came in after they'd been waiting about fifteen minutes. "Good morning, Natalie," he said, studying her from head to foot with a practiced eye. "You're looking much better."

Natalie smiled. "I'm feeling much better, too."

"Mr. Monk, Ms. Fleming," he said in greeting to Adrian and Sharona, who were both standing against the wall across from the exam bed. "Has she been behaving herself?"

"She's been a model patient," Sharona said with a smile.

"I'm happy to hear it." He looked back at Natalie. "How's the pain?"

"Not bad at all," she said. "I'm mostly using ibuprofen now."

He nodded and motioned to her. "Let's have a look, shall we?"

Natalie unbuttoned her shirt, hiked up her bra, and laid back on the bed. Adrian couldn't hold back a jolt and a wince. He hadn't seen her incision before — at her request — and he wasn't quite prepared for the sight of the long, livid red gash below her left breast. He knew that both her chest incision and her forehead wound had been stitched up using dissolvable sutures, so at least she hadn't needed to go through the ordeal of having stitches removed as her injuries healed.

Sharona squeezed his hand sympathetically. "It's actually looking really good," she whispered to him.

Dr. Harmon seemed to agree. "Your incision is healing nicely, and the bruising is almost gone," he remarked. He gently felt along her rib cage, pressing slightly here and there. Natalie flinched a few times, but made no sound other than a sharp intake of breath once or twice.

"Let's listen to your lungs," he said, helping her sit up. He took out his stethoscope and had her breathe deeply, listening to first the front and then the back of her chest for several minutes.

When he was done, and Natalie had pulled her bra back down and re-buttoned her shirt, he examined the healing laceration on her forehead. When he was finished, he studied her chart for a long minute. "I'm glad to see you've gained back a good portion of the weight you lost in the hospital. Someone's been feeding you well." He winked at Adrian and Sharona.

"They get mad at me if I don't clean my plate," Natalie said, her mouth quirking.

Dr. Harmon chuckled. "Well, Natalie, your X-rays look good — the broken ribs appear to be mending properly, as are the cracked ribs. Your lung sounds back to normal, and I'm very satisfied with the healing of both your chest incision and your forehead wound."

He smiled, and said the words she'd been longing to hear. "You're officially off bed rest."

"Yes!" she cheered, pumping a fist in the air.

"But," he cautioned, "you're still on limited activity. Remember, you're recovering from fairly major surgery, and your ribs aren't fully healed _yet_. No driving, no lifting anything heavier than ten pounds, and no contact sports for the next six weeks. Light exercise is all right, and will even be beneficial, but be careful that you don't overdo it."

"Can I go back to work?"

Adrian frowned. "I don't think — "

Dr. Harmon held up a hand. "You help Mr. Monk investigate crime scenes, is that right?"

Natalie nodded.

"As long as you're careful, and let me stress that you need to be _careful_ , I don't see why not, just as long as you keep any strenuous physical activity — running, jumping, and so on — to a minimum. Stay hydrated, get off your feet when you can, and don't skip any meals; I'd like to see you gain back at least five more pounds. Also remember that your immune system is somewhat compromised now that your spleen is gone, so you need to take that into account."

"Doctor, I live in the cleanest house in San Francisco," Natalie said, her expression solemn.

"I'm sure that's the case," Dr. Harmon said, glancing at Adrian, "but the rest of San Francisco isn't quite so clean, unfortunately."

Adrian nodded his agreement. From now on, he would make sure that both he _and_ Natalie used his wipes.

"Can I shower now?" Natalie asked.

"You may shower or bathe," Dr. Harmon conceded. "Your incision is healed enough so that immersion in water shouldn't be an issue."

She nearly cried with relief at the prospect of no more sponge baths.

"What about sex?" she blurted.

Sharona disguised a gasp by pretending to cough while Adrian flushed crimson. " _Natalie_ ," he protested weakly, covering his face with his hand.

Dr. Harmon heroically tamped down his laughter. "As long as you're feeling up to it, it's fine — but be sensible. Nothing too… strenuous, if you get my meaning — at least not while you're on limited activity."

"I understand," she agreed, barely repressing a giggle when she saw the mortified expression on Adrian's face.

"Speaking of… Dr. Hector told me that wedding plans are underway," Dr. Harmon said, glancing at her engagement ring. "June fourth, I believe?"

"Tentatively," Natalie said. "But we're willing to push it back to July thirtieth if necessary."

"Keep making the progress you have and I don't think June will be a problem." He smiled broadly. "But I wouldn't recommend any mountain climbing or bungee jumping during the honeymoon."

"We hadn't planned on it," she said, elated by his words.

He shook her hand. "It was wonderful seeing you again, Natalie — and you as well, Mr. Monk, and Ms. Fleming. Keep up the excellent care."

The doctor had barely left the room when she all but launched herself at Adrian. "Did you hear that? No more bed rest!"

"I heard," he said, smiling at her exuberance as they hugged.

"We should celebrate," Natalie said, fairly radiating joy. "How about roller skating? Or ice hockey?"

Adrian rolled his eyes at her as she dissolved in giggles.

"How about lunch?" Sharona suggested, laughing at both of them.

"Lunch sounds fantastic," Natalie agreed.

"I have an idea," Adrian said, threading his arm through Natalie's and leading her out the door. "Let's go by the station and see if Randy's free to join us."

"That is a _great_ idea," Sharona agreed, pleased he'd thought of it. He made considerate gestures like that far oftener than he used to, she'd noticed.

* * *

The squad room at the precinct was, as always, bustling and humming with activity as they arrived. Randy and Leland didn't appear to be terribly busy, however, as they were sitting casually around Randy's desk, chatting with a couple of the other detectives.

Leland caught sight of them as they came in the door. His face brightened with a pleased grin as he jumped to his feet. "Well, look who just showed up," he said, threading through the desks, with Randy close behind. He pulled Natalie into a hug. "Natalie Teeger, what the hell are you doing here?"

"I'm officially off bed rest," she announced.

"Really?" Leland said, looking at Sharona.

"So the doctor said this morning," Sharona confirmed. "But she's on limited activity for the next six weeks."

"He said I could go back to work, too," Natalie declared.

"Just as long as you're _careful_ ," Adrian added, shooting a warning glance at Leland.

"We'll try to avoid inviting you to any hazardous crime scenes in the near future," Leland said cheerfully.

"We were hoping to steal Randy for a celebratory lunch, if you can spare him," Sharona said, winking at Randy.

"I'll do you one better," Leland said. "I was going to meet T.K. for lunch today. Why don't we all go?"

"We'd love to," Natalie said happily.

"Let me give her a call right now. While I'm doing that, you should go greet some of your adoring public over there," Leland said, giving Natalie a gentle push toward the throng of detectives and officers who had gathered nearby, excited by her reappearance in the squad room.

Adrian hung back slightly as Natalie laughed and chatted with the members of the Homicide division who had crowded around her. He saw that the note she'd written to the squad to thank them for the flower arrangement they'd sent to her in the hospital held a place of honor on the bulletin board.

"They really love her," Sharona murmured to him.

"Yeah," he said, as Natalie cracked up at something Detective Carlsen said to her. "They do."

"Did they like me that much?" she wondered.

He grinned. "Yeah, they did." He glanced over at Randy, who was quickly finishing up some paperwork at his desk. "As it turns out, one of them really, _really_ liked you."

She smiled, laughing quietly. "Too bad it took me so long to figure out that I _really_ liked him, too."

"It all worked out for the best," he said philosophically. "If you hadn't moved away, I might never have met Natalie."

Sharona considered this. "You might still have been hired to help solve her case."

He nodded thoughtfully. "Maybe. But I don't think our association would have progressed much beyond that, if I hadn't needed a new assistant. I was still so… _broken_."

"Then you're right," she said lightly. "It did all work out for the best." They grinned at one another.

Leland came out of his office, smiling broadly. "We're all set. T.K. will meet us at the Park Tavern in twenty minutes." It was a popular, if slightly more upscale, lunch destination near the station house.

"My treat," Adrian announced.

Both Sharona and Leland gaped at him. "Am I hearing things, or did Adrian Monk, cheapskate extraordinaire, just say 'my treat'?" Sharona wondered aloud.

He shrugged, his ears reddening. "We're celebrating."

Adrian managed — barely — to extract Natalie from her crowd of admirers so they could leave for lunch.

"Did anyone ask for your autograph?" he asked, wryly, as they walked to his car.

"No, but Detective Carlsen asked if he could see my scar," she said cheerfully.

He stopped walking so abruptly that Natalie, who was holding his hand, nearly tripped. "Did you show it to him?" he sputtered.

She smacked his arm. "You were standing right there the whole time, you dope. Did it _look_ like I showed him my scar?"

"Well, I was talking to Sharona half the time, so I didn't see — "

She smacked him again.

"Okay, okay," he relented, pretending to cower from her blows. "I'm sorry."

She grinned at him and rose up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "I'll be more than happy to show _you_ my scar once we're alone," she whispered flirtatiously into his ear.

Adrian felt a queer mixture of excitement and dread, but only squeezed her hand in reply. He knew that tonight they'd have to have the conversation he'd been putting off.

* * *

The six friends had a wonderful lunch. Natalie, Sharona, and T.K. were heavily involved in a discussion about when to start shopping for Natalie's wedding dress, as well as the bridesmaid dresses, now that Natalie could leave the house.

Natalie was gung-ho about going the next day, but a quick call to Julie and Cassandra nixed those plans — Cassandra had a wedding to work, and Julie already had plans with friends. They decided on a week from Sunday instead.

True to his word, Adrian grabbed the check when they were finished. Sharona had to step out momentarily to take a phone call, and she was beaming with excitement when she returned to the table. "I have a job interview on Tuesday," she announced.

"That's great! Where?" Randy asked.

"San Francisco General, in the Emergency Department. Apparently, someone put in a good word for me with Dr. Hector," Sharona said, slanting a glance Adrian's way. He grinned bashfully but didn't deny it.

"What time?" Natalie asked.

"Ten a.m., so looks like I'll be coming in late that day," Sharona said cheerfully.

"Well…" Natalie pretended to consider this. "I don't know if your current employer will let you have the time off."

Sharon's eyes danced with laughter. "What are you going to do, fire me?"

Natalie's eyes laughed back. "I hope so!"

"You're still on the payroll for at least another week," Adrian cut in. " _Limited activity_ ," he reminded Natalie when she started to object.

"Spoilsport," she muttered.

"He's right," Sharona said. "You need to get back in the swing of things _gradually_. Trying to do too much too soon won't help you any."

Natalie appealed to Leland and T.K. "I don't suppose either of you will take my side."

Leland shook his head firmly.

"Three weeks ago you were in intensive care," T.K. said sympathetically. "Don't push it."

"Mother hens," Natalie said, grumpily relenting.

"Cluck, cluck," Adrian said, sliding his credit card back in his wallet.

"Don't worry, I'll be out of your hair soon enough," Sharona promised.


	24. Chapter 24

As much as she liked Sharona, Natalie could hardly wait for her to leave that evening. Limited activity or not, she had big plans, the first of which was a long, hot, steamy bubble bath with candles, a glass of wine, and soft music. _Then_ she planned to seduce her fiancé. It was too bad, she mused, that she didn't have a bigger tub so she could do both at once. But, as he'd said a few weeks ago, they'd make do.

She put part one of her plan into excellent effect, soaking luxuriously for over an hour. Finally, the cooling water forced her to get out and towel off. After she'd dried her hair and slathered on a layer of creamy jasmine-scented lotion, she slipped into a slinky pale pink silk nightgown.

Natalie was disappointed that Adrian wasn't waiting for her in her — in _their_ — bedroom and, after wrapping herself in a matching silk bathrobe, went exploring.

She found him sitting at the kitchen table, reading a book. He'd recently taken to wearing black-framed, rectangular-shaped reading glasses when dealing with small print, which she personally thought were very sexy on him.

"Hey you," she said, wrapping her arms around him from behind.

"Hey," he said, taking off his glasses. "How was your bath?"

"It felt amazing," she said with a sigh of contentment. "Although I was kind of hoping you'd be waiting for me in the bedroom once I got out." She nuzzled his neck affectionately.

"Actually…" he said, and she could feel him stiffen slightly. "There's something I wanted to talk to you about."

"Uh oh," she teased. "Is this a serious discussion?" When the sober expression on his face didn't change, she felt a tiny frisson of fear in her stomach. This apparently _was_ a serious discussion.

She seated herself at the table, directly across from him. "What's going on?" she asked quietly.

He closed his book but didn't say anything for a long minute. "I need to ask you something," he said at length, staring at its cover.

She could tell, from long experience, that he was working up courage, and felt another tremor of apprehension. But she waited patiently for him to say what he wanted to say.

When he finally spoke, his question wasn't at all what she'd expected. "Are you still taking birth control pills?"

She blinked in surprise. He had never mentioned her pills, not since the very first day they had met and he had mortified her by mentioning them in front of Julie.

"Not at the moment," she said honestly. "Obviously, I wasn't able to take them right after the accident. Dr. Harmon told me when I was discharged to wait until after my next period to start taking them again, and to use condoms for a few months just in case. But if you're worried about tonight, I have some. Condoms, I mean." She'd ducked into a drugstore on their way home that afternoon for that very reason — although her official reason had been that she wanted to buy some new bubble bath.

He didn't respond right away, but instead fiddled with his glasses. "What if… how would you feel if… if maybe you didn't?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Her brow furrowed in confusion. "If I didn't what?"

"Start taking them again."

She stared at him, absolutely baffled. "What are you — "

And then it clicked.

She sat back in her chair, thoroughly staggered. She felt much the same as she had the night he had proposed. Once again, he'd taken all of her assumptions and turned them upside down.

But she had to make sure she understood him correctly. "Do… do you _want_ me to get pregnant?"

He twitched slightly. "Dr. Bell thought we should talk about it," he said in a low voice. "He said we should make sure that we're on the same page."

 _That_ explained why he'd come back so distracted and nervous from his last few sessions with Dr. Bell. "Well," she said slowly, "what page are you on?"

"I don't know." For the first time since their discussion had started, he looked up and met her eyes. "At first I thought it was impossible, but I've been thinking about it, and… I don't know," he said again. "But I thought I should find out how you felt."

"I'm not — I hadn't — " Her mind was reeling. "I'll need some time to consider it, I guess. It's — it's a pretty big decision."

He nodded. "I know."

She straightened in her chair, trying to figure out how to phrase her next question tactfully. "Is there a specific reason why you don't think it's impossible anymore?" she asked delicately.

He sighed deeply. "Trudy wanted children," he said, gazing absently out of the kitchen window as he spoke. "Desperately. But I would never agree. Maybe she would have talked me into it, eventually, but…" He shook his head. "I've always regretted saying no. It was the only thing she wanted from me during our marriage that I couldn't — wouldn't — give her."

"Why not?" Natalie asked softly, although she could guess.

He shook his head again. "I was afraid I'd end up like my father. That one day it'd all get to be too much and I'd just — take off. I was too scared to risk doing that to her, or to our child."

She nodded, understanding perfectly. "So what's changed?"

He huffed out a breath. "When my father was here last weekend, he asked about potential grandchildren."

Adrian certainly hadn't mentioned _that_ tidbit of their conversation to her. "What did you say?"

"I said it wasn't going to happen, because I was too afraid I'd be like him."

Her eyebrows rose. Jack Monk probably hadn't liked hearing that. "And what did he say?"

"He said…" Adrian shifted in his chair, and actually smiled slightly. "He said that I was a better man that he'd ever been, or ever would be. And that I'd never leave someone who needed me."

Natalie was impressed. Jack Monk knew himself, and his son, better than she'd given him credit for. "He's right."

Adrian flushed. "So, I've been thinking about it, and… well… I guess I don't want you to have the same regrets. If you would want to, that is. And if you don't, I understand, and it won't be a problem, but I — "

"Adrian," she said, cutting off his torrent of words. "I don't know what I want, not right now. I'm going to need some time to think about it." She cleared her throat. "Does this mean that you don't want to… um… resume relations quite yet?"

"That's another thing I wanted to ask about," he said, looking embarrassed. "I was thinking that… maybe… we could wait."

He didn't elaborate. "Wait until…?" she prompted.

"Wait until our wedding night."

"Adrian." She stared at him in disbelief. "That's at least eight weeks away. Maybe more."

"I know."

Her eyes narrowed. "Is this payback for me making you wait six weeks after we first started dating?"

"No!" he said indignantly. "I know it's a lot to ask. But it just seems, I don't know, kind of appropriate. If nothing else, it'd give us some time to figure things out about… about the whole birth control thing. And it'd make me feel better about… not accidentally hurting you… if I know you're fully healed."

"Dr. Harmon said — "

"I heard what he said," he interrupted. "But… I'm still scared." Remembering the sight of her incision earlier that day, he shuddered slightly. Both Dr. Harmon and Sharona had said it was healing well, but it had looked raw and painful to him. He knew that he wouldn't be able to think of anything else if they tried to make love, and he wasn't entirely sure he'd be able to… well, perform… while so anxious.

She reached across the table to take his hand, knowing that he could use the physical reassurance. "You're not going to hurt me."

He didn't seem convinced. "It'd make our wedding night really special, you know, if it's the first time we're… together… after the accident. It'd add an extra dimension of…well, symbolism, to it."

"Symbolism?" she repeated.

"You know… starting a new life, after all we've been through. Having our first time together after you miraculously survive a terrible accident also be the first day we start our lives as husband and wife. That kind of thing."

She cocked her head. "'Miraculously'? What makes you say that?"

He mentally kicked himself for letting that particular word escape his mouth. "Nothing. It's nothing, really. I just meant — "

"Adrian," she said, her tone one of warning. "You're a terrible liar."

He sighed, raking his hands through his hair, and made a decision. "I'll be right back." He left the room and came back a moment later with a manila folder in his hands. "I think it's time that you saw these."

Curious, she opened the folder, and realized she was looking at the police report from her accident. She flipped through the pages until she got to the eight by ten color photos of the accident scene.

"Oh my God," she said, staring at a photo of her car in shock. It was so crumpled and smashed that it was hardly recognizable as hers. There were other pictures as well — ones of the driver's side of the car, with the steering wheel tilted at an impossibly crazy angle. She could see blood on the upholstery — her blood — and felt a little dizzy. In her mind, she heard a deafening _*crunch*_ and the echo of her own screams.

"The department's accident reconstructionist had no explanation for how you survived," Adrian said quietly. "Dr. Hector can't explain it either. They both said that at the very least you should have had multiple broken bones, if not severe, life-threatening injuries — quadriplegia, or maybe brain damage — not just some broken ribs and a cut on your forehead."

"But there was internal bleeding — and my spleen — " she said in protest.

He shrugged. "Fairly minor, all things considered." He looked at the photos, his expression grave. "Natalie, I was a cop for over a decade. I saw my fair share of vehicular accidents. There's no logical explanation for how you essentially walked away from a crash like that with only minor injuries."

Something in his voice made her pause. "What about an illogical explanation?"

He squirmed, embarrassed. "Leland said… I know it sounds farfetched, but he thinks… he thinks Trudy saved you for me."

She considered this as she looked at the photos again. "Or maybe Mitch saved me for you."

He smiled at that. "They were working together before they died — maybe they were working together afterwards as well."

Natalie smiled too. "I guess it was miraculous." She very deliberately closed the folder. The pictures had shaken her more than she wanted to admit. She still had nightmares about the crash, although thankfully she wasn't waking up screaming like she had after the first one.

She sighed. "All right. We can wait."

He brightened. "You won't be mad?"

She rolled her eyes. "I won't be mad. Annoyed, maybe. Frustrated, probably. But not mad." She pointed at him. "You'd better lock your door at night or I might give into temptation."

He grinned, looking more relieved and relaxed than he had for days – weeks, really. Natalie realized that the topics they'd discussed — both postponing intercourse and her birth control status — must have been eating at him for quite a while. She felt guilty for not having pressed harder to find out what was bothering him, but she'd been too wrapped up in bed rest self-pity. Some fiancée she was.

She rose from her seat and went over to him, sliding onto his lap. She kissed him, tenderly, and then hugged him tightly. "I'm sorry I didn't realize how worried you were. I'll do better, I promise."

His arms came around her and he held her tight. "I didn't want _you_ to worry about me." They held each other, without speaking, for a long minute. Then Natalie shifted in his lap, having felt something very familiar. He drew back, looking at her with a pained expression. "I'm starting to regret this whole waiting until our wedding night thing already."

She grinned, shifting again. "It's not too late to change your mind."

He groaned. "You'd better go upstairs before my resolve fails."

She kissed him goodnight, and as she slid off his lap, he muttered, "Maybe you should lock _your_ door, too."


	25. Chapter 25

Sharona turned up shortly after noon on Tuesday. She found Natalie alone in the kitchen, sipping tea and paging through a magazine. Adrian was nowhere to be seen.

"Hey, Sharona," Natalie greeted her. "How'd it go?"

"I think it went really well," Sharona said, still feeling jittery and excited. "Dr. Hector said she'd let me know sometime next week. Where's Adrian?"

"He's doing some packing at his apartment," she said. "I wanted to go and help, but he was too afraid I'd lift something I shouldn't." She rolled her eyes.

"That's probably wise," Sharona said, grabbing a mug and making some tea for herself. "Sometimes you don't realize how heavy a box is until you start lifting it, and then it's too late."

"I promised him that I wouldn't lift anything heavy, I'd just help pack, but you know…" She sighed. "Deaf ears. I suppose that he'd just repack everything I did anyway."

"Probably," Sharona agreed, joining her at the table. She cocked her head, noting the signs of a restless night on Natalie's face. "Did you have a rough night, pain-wise?"

"What? No," Natalie said, shaking her head. "I haven't needed Percocet in days. I just… I have a lot on my mind right now."

"I'll bet," Sharona said, stirring honey into her tea. "Wedding worries?"

"Not really," Natalie said, staring at her magazine. She hadn't read a word or turned a page in nearly an hour. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Hypothetically — _very_ hypothetically — do you think it'd be a bad idea if I… if Adrian and I… had a baby?"

Sharona had to swallow very quickly to avoid spewing her tea all over the table. "Are you asking for my medical perspective, or my personal opinion?" she asked carefully.

Natalie shrugged. "Both, I suppose."

Sharona blew out a breath. "Well, from a medical perspective, it'd be wise to wait a little while. You just had major surgery. I'd say at least two months, or more if you want to be extremely cautious. As for my personal opinion…" She shrugged helplessly. "I can't answer that because it's not my business. It's between you and Adrian."

When Natalie didn't say anything, she pushed a little further. "Are the two of you thinking of trying?"

Natalie gripped her mug tightly. "We had a talk on Friday night, and he asked me how I'd feel about stopping birth control," she confided.

Sharona's eyes widened. "Wow." She had a hard time believing that it was Adrian Monk who had instigated that particular conversation, or who had made that particular suggestion, but Natalie didn't look as if she were joking.

"I told him I'd have to think about it, which I have been." Natalie stared into her mug of tea. "A lot."

Sharona frowned as something occurred to her, given that she was now intimately familiar with Natalie's medication regimen, as well as the contents of her medicine cabinet. "But… you're not on birth control right now, are you?"

Natalie shook her head.

"So did you two — "

"No," Natalie admitted. "That's something else we talked about. He wants to wait until our wedding night, and I agreed." She blew out an exasperated breath. "Reluctantly."

"Ah." Sharona nodded sagely, although she was struck by how surreal this conversation was. Adrian Monk's sex life was not a subject she was accustomed to discussing. Still, knowing him as she did, and remembering how he'd reacted to the sight of Natalie's incision a few days ago, she could guess what his worries were. "Is he too freaked out about hurting you right now?"

"Yes, but part of it is the whole birth control issue, too. I don't exactly want to go back on it if we do decide to try after the wedding, and I don't think he likes the idea of condoms." Natalie absently fiddled with the teabag in her cup. "I wasn't sure how I felt about stopping the Pill, at first, but… I have to admit, the idea is starting to have some appeal."

"Do you want more children?" Sharona asked.

"I _always_ wanted more children," Natalie confessed wistfully. "Mitch and I tried for another baby after Julie, but it never happened — not that we were able to try a lot, given his deployments. After he died I couldn't even think about it for years. Eventually, though, I kind of hoped I'd remarry at some point and maybe have a few more kids, but I never found the right guy."

"Until now," Sharona supplied sympathetically.

"Until now," Natalie agreed. "But… it seems ridiculous. I'm nearly forty, for heaven's sakes. He's fifty-one. There are risks. And my only child is eighteen — there'd probably be a twenty-year age gap, maybe more, between them. I thought I was done with the baby days; do I really want to start all over again, with breastfeeding and diapers and teething? I mean, it's ludicrous to even consider."

"But you're considering it anyway."

Natalie heaved a sigh. "Yeah."

Sharona smiled, sitting back in her chair. "Welcome to the club, honey."

Natalie's head jerked up in surprise. "Are you and Randy…?"

"We're thinking about it," Sharona admitted. "Not right now, I need to find a good job and get established in it before we even _think_ about trying, but… he wants to, eventually. And I think I do, too."

Natalie smiled. "That's great."

Sharona raised her eyebrows. "Is it? I'm nearly forty and my only child is eighteen."

"I — " Natalie flushed. "Randy's younger than Adrian."

"What difference does that make?" Sharona said. "The equipment works the same way, no matter how old they are."

"I know, but — " She didn't like putting her concern into words. "It's just — people don't live forever, and — "

"You're afraid you'll end up a single mom again?" Sharona said quietly.

Natalie nodded, her eyes filling with tears at the thought of it.

"I know how you feel," Sharona said pragmatically. "Randy's a cop. It's one of the most dangerous professions there is. I could end up a single mom again, too. And it'd be tough… but if the worst happened, I think I'd regret not trying much more than I'd regret having that child."

"Yeah," Natalie said through her tears. Sharona handed her a napkin.

"It must have been so awful for you after Mitch died," she said sympathetically. "At least Benjy's father was still alive, even if he wasn't around much."

"It was… excruciating," Natalie said, reliving the experience as if it'd happened yesterday. "I felt like a zombie for months, just going through the motions. But I'm so thankful I had Julie. The only thing that got me through it was having that… that piece of him with me, and knowing he'd live on through her."

Sharona nodded in understanding. "I think that if Adrian and Trudy would have had a child, he might not have fallen apart the way he did after she died."

"That had occurred to me. Especially since _I_ could have died in that accident, and he'd have been alone again. I mean, I know Julie would have been there for him, but I don't know if that would have helped."

"I think losing you would have utterly destroyed him, regardless," Sharona said softly. "He barely survived it once, but twice? I just thank God that didn't happen."

"Me too," Natalie said, shuddering as she remembered the accident photos.

The two women were silent for a long while, each lost in their own thoughts. Finally, Sharona spoke again. "After I remarried Trevor, I wanted more kids. We tried for two years, but it never happened."

Natalie reached out and took her hand. "Did you get any testing done, or…?"

Sharona shook her head. "Trevor kept telling me that it'd happen eventually, that we just had to relax, or maybe it was taking a while because I was older than I once was." She swallowed, and Natalie saw tears glimmering in her eyes — but they were angry tears. "And _then_ I found out he'd had a vasectomy the year before we got back together."

Natalie stared at her, open-mouthed. "He'd been sterilized and he didn't even _tell_ you?"

Sharona shook her head, tears slipping down her cheeks. "He lied to me. Over and over again, he lied to me — and when I confronted him, he said I should be happy about it, that it was built-in birth control and I was too old to have another kid anyway."

"Is he still alive?" Natalie asked frankly.

Sharona laughed, wiping the tears from her eyes. "Unfortunately, yes. But I kicked him out that same day and filed for divorce — again — just as soon as I could. That's one of the reasons I wanted to move back here, honestly — after that, I couldn't stand even being in the same state as him."

"I don't blame you," Natalie said fervently.

Sharona shrugged. "I was stupid to get back together with him in the first place, but I thought he'd changed. I was wrong."

"I am _so_ sorry," Natalie said, genuinely appalled. "I can't believe he would lie to you like that."

Sharona smiled sadly. "Of course you can't. You were married to an honest, decent man — and you're going to marry another one."

"You have an honest, decent man now, too," Natalie pointed out. "In fact, Randy's one of the most decent guys I know."

"He is," Sharona agreed, smiling fondly. "I think my luck with men has finally changed."

"Does Randy know what Trevor did to you?"

She nodded.

Natalie gave her a wry grin. "If Randy goes on a mysterious business trip to New Jersey and Trevor's found floating in the Atlantic a few days later, I promise I won't say a thing."

Sharona laughed. "The thought had crossed my mind. Let's just say Trevor knows to stay as far away from San Francisco as he can get."

They both laughed, and Natalie felt oddly settled. "Thanks for the tea and sympathy," she said. "I feel much better now."

"Likewise," Sharona said. "You know, you're the only one I've told about what Trevor did, other than Randy."

"Benjy doesn't know?"

"Oh, he knows, but only because Trevor told him, not me. I think Trevor thought Benjy would be on his side, but Benjy was furious with him." Sharona shivered. "They had a huge fight — they nearly came to blows. After that, Benjy decided to transfer schools."

"Good for him," Natalie said firmly. "You raised him right."

Sharona smiled. "I did, didn't I? Did you know that he wants to be a cop?"

"Really?" Natalie exclaimed. "That's great!"

"I'm proud of him, but I'd be lying if I said it didn't scare me. Most dangerous profession, and all that." Sharona bit her lip. "But he says he wants to be a homicide detective like Adrian. And he's really warmed up to Randy, too. They get along really well."

"Julie's a theater major," Natalie said. "She's not sure yet if she wants to be an actress or just work behind the scenes."

Their conversation drifted into more mundane topics. When Adrian came home around three, they were still sitting at the table together, laughing and chatting. The remains of a casual lunch of sandwiches and carrot sticks littered the table.

"Hey, want some help?" Sharona asked, seeing the box in his arms.

"I wouldn't say no," Adrian said, shifting the box to get a better angle. "I have a few more out in the car."

Sharona left to grab a box while Natalie began clearing away the lunch debris. By the time Sharona and Adrian had finished carrying all of the boxes out of the car and up to the guest room, she had the kitchen tidied up again. It was amazing how just doing a simple household chore made her feel so accomplished after weeks of sitting around doing nothing.

Adrian, of course, wanted to unpack his boxes right away. Not surprisingly, he wouldn't let her help. Sharona, sensing that Natalie was feeling at loose ends, offered to take her grocery shopping — after assuring Adrian that no, she wouldn't let Natalie do any heavy lifting at all, and she'd be sure to have her rest afterwards.

Natalie decided to get the ingredients for homemade chicken pot pie, Adrian's favorite, and cook an actual dinner that night. It _was_ Tuesday, after all. In the last few weeks, they'd been making do with fairly simple meals — canned soup, sandwiches, pre-made dinners from the grocery store, a few frozen casseroles T.K. had given them, and occasionally getting take-out. It was time for a change.

Adrian was still busy unpacking and organizing when they returned to the house, but after a short rest — at Sharona's insistence — Natalie started dinner preparations. Sharona had already gone home for the day when she took the pie, hot and bubbling, out of the oven.

He appeared in the kitchen minutes later. When he saw the pie cooling on the counter, the expression on his face was so hopeful that she couldn't help but smile. "Is that… chicken pot pie?" he asked as though he were afraid to believe it.

"No," she said, and his face fell. "It's _homemade_ chicken pot pie," she clarified, and laughed at the grin that spread over his face.

"What's the occasion?" he asked, noting the table was already set, complete with candles.

"It's Tuesday, I'm off bed rest, and you've been working hard today." Using potholders, she carefully transferred the pie to the table.

"Hey, I can get that!" he protested, springing forward.

She rolled her eyes. "Adrian, this pot pie does not weigh more than ten pounds."

"I guess not," he said, drawing back and flushing slightly. "I'll, uh, fix us some ice water."

He enjoyed the meal tremendously, judging by the large portions he ate, and she had to admit there was something satisfying about a home-cooked meal.

When they were finished eating, Adrian helped with the clean-up. He was putting their water glasses away on the top shelf of the cupboard when he suddenly yelped in pain and grabbed his left shoulder.

"Are you okay?" Natalie asked, alarmed.

He winced, rolling his shoulder slowly. "Yes, I just pulled a muscle earlier today."

"Ouch," she said sympathetically. "Let's sit down and I'll massage it for you."

"It's fine, it's not — "

"Adrian, hush," she said, leading him to the living room. "I can see that it's hurting you." She made him sit on the couch, then she knelt behind him and rubbed his sore shoulder, massaging carefully but firmly where she felt the tense muscles.

She could tell it was helping by the way he gradually relaxed. "Will you just keep doing that for the next eight hours or so?" he mumbled, his eyes closed and his expression slack.

Natalie grinned. "I'm not sure my fingers would last that long."

"We won't know until we try," he said, sighing in contentment.

She kept up the massage as his head lolled against the couch cushions. "Adrian," she said as she worked, "I've been thinking… a lot… about what we talked about on Friday evening."

He'd had a long, busy day and her gentle massage was immensely relaxing. "Hmmm?" he murmured vaguely.

"Well… here's the thing." She smiled, a bit self-consciously. "I think I want to."

"You want to what?" he asked, a little drowsily.

"Stop using birth control."

It took a minute for her words to register, but when they did, Adrian froze. He blinked his eyes open and turned to face her. She looked nervous, but also… happy. "You do?" he asked.

She nodded. "What do you think?"

He hesitated, feeling flummoxed. What _did_ he think? As he gazed into her soft blue eyes, he heard himself say, "I think you should stop using it, too." He could hardly believe what he was suggesting, but he realized that he was absolutely in earnest.

Her first reaction, to her own surprise, was elation. But then she bit her lip and said, "Adrian, there's something you should know – it took Mitch and I nearly a year to have Julie, and we tried again afterwards but we didn't have any luck, so I don't know if – "

"If it happens, it happens," he said. "And if not… that's okay, too." He kissed her, long and soundly, and the two of them almost forgot themselves as they sat on the couch and made out like randy teenagers.

Eventually he forced himself to pull away, as he was getting entirely too tempted to forego their arrangement. "This waiting thing is going to be a lot harder than I'd anticipated," he said gruffly.

"It was your idea," she said, breathing heavily, looking attractively tousled.

"Don't remind me," he grumbled. "Maybe I should move back to my apartment until the wedding."

She giggled slightly. "It's a one-bedroom apartment. I'm not sure my parents would want to share."

He sighed, and stole one more kiss before making himself get up. "I'm going to go outside and take a walk. Maybe find a large body of freezing water to jump into."

"Don't drown," she said, her eyes dancing with humor.

"I wish," he muttered as he strode out the door.


	26. Chapter 26

As luck would have it, they caught a case late Sunday morning. Natalie was torn between going back to work for the first time since the accident, or going wedding dress shopping as she'd originally planned.

"Go shopping," Adrian told her. "I can handle it alone."

His comment caused her to frown. "Why am I even working for you if you don't need me anymore?"

"You're not working _for_ me anymore," he said, taking her into his arms. "You're working _with_ me. Partners, remember?"

"If I'm your partner, I should be there," she argued.

"There will always be more cases, but you don't have a lot of time left to pick out your dress, if we keep the wedding as June fourth," he said reasonably. "Besides, you can't disappoint your bridesmaids — _and_ your mother. They're counting on you, too."

He had a point, she had to admit. They had all rearranged their schedules and put off making other plans so they could go out shopping today.

"All right," she said reluctantly. "I'll go. Just… pretend it was really, really hard to solve without me, okay?"

He grinned as he kissed her good-bye. "I'll miss you."

* * *

As it turned out, the case wasn't a difficult one to solve, with or without her help. He was relieved to get a "softball," considering how disturbing the last murder had been.

He quickly figured out that the neighbor who had claimed to hear a loud crash and then witnessed a nondescript person running from the scene was lying, as the hedgerow between the houses was overgrown. There was no way that the neighbor could have seen anyone leaving the house.

To his credit, Leland had already figured that out for himself, but the problem was that the neighbor had an alibi. His daughter had been with him the whole time, having come over for brunch, and she swore he had never left her sight, not for a moment.

Adrian, however, deduced that the daughter — who had been having an affair with the married man next door, the same guy who was now laying in the morgue after being bludgeoned to death with a sports trophy — had been the one to leave the house and commit the crime, given the minuscule holes in the freshly-watered lawn exactly matched the length and width of her high heels. While she'd tried to clean the mud off her heels, she hadn't gotten it all. Also, she had hairs on her skirt that matched the fur of the murdered man's cocker spaniel — hair that could only have been left on her skirt that day, as the dog had been given a bath earlier that morning. The fur on her skirt was clean and shiny, and smelled of the same shampoo that had been used on the dog.

Both the daughter and her father were arrested — she for murder, he for obstruction of justice and accessory after the fact — and Adrian felt pleased with the day's work. It was late afternoon by that time, and he decided to call Natalie to see how her day was progressing.

Natalie was relaxing in a chair, watching Peggy Davenport model mother-of-the-bride ensembles, when her new cell phone rang. She'd finally replaced the one that had gotten destroyed in the accident.

"Hey you," Adrian said when she answered.

"Hey you," she greeted, pleased to hear from him. "How's the case?"

"Solved," he said with a touch of pride.

"Good for you, Mr. Famous Private Detective," she said flirtatiously.

He laughed. "So, what are you up to?"

"I just bought my wedding dress."

She could all but hear him smiling through the phone. "You did, did you?"

"I did," Natalie said smugly. " _And_ a veil, along with a few other accessories."

"Are they even half as gorgeous as you are?"

She grinned. "I hope so. The dress needs to be altered slightly, but they promise it'll be ready in a few weeks. We found bridesmaid dresses, too."

"Sounds like a successful day."

"So far. My mother is trying on outfits now. It could still be a while."

"Are you staying hydrated?"

She sighed, glancing at the empty plastic bottle of water on the table next to the chair. Sharona had been pushing fluids on her all day. "Yes."

"And resting when you can?"

"I'm sitting down right now. I even have my feet up." Sharona had insisted on that, too.

"Glad to hear it. What's on the agenda after dress shopping is done?"

"Oh, you know, I thought I might go skydiving, or maybe play in traffic for a while." She rolled her eyes at Cassandra, who was examining a display of earrings nearby. Cassandra giggled.

"Very funny," he said, but she could tell he was amused.

"We're going to go out to eat, and then I'll be home."

"Okay. I'll see you later tonight, then," he said, and added, "I love you."

"I love you, too," she said, and ended the call.

When she looked up, Julie was pretending to vomit. "Oh, knock it off," Natalie said, laughing, flinging her empty water bottle at her.

"Why don't you just make kissy noises into the phone while you're at it?" Julie said, dodging the missile artfully.

"Next time I will, so long as you're nearby," she teased.

"Natalie, Julie, behave yourselves," Peggy Davenport commanded from the center of the room, as a seamstress adjusted the fit of a shimmery cocktail suit.

"Yes, ma'am," they both said obediently, then dissolved into giggles.

* * *

Once Peggy had finished her fitting, they went out to dinner. They were enjoying dessert when Peggy's eyes suddenly focused on the television set mounted in the corner. "Natalie," she said, "you're on the news."

"What?" Natalie twisted around to look. The set was tuned to one of the local news channels. Sure enough, there she was, Adrian by her side — stock footage, she guessed, as it looked a few months old.

The set was muted so she couldn't hear what was being said, but her eyes widened when a picture of Trudy Monk flashed on the screen, then a picture of Trudy's car from the bombing. A mug shot of Dale Biederbeck was next, and she closed her eyes momentarily. She'd known this was coming eventually, given that Dale's death effectively nullified the reason for the gag order on Dougal's case, but she'd hoped it wouldn't get much play. The six o'clock news on a Sunday night wasn't exactly subtle, however.

She opened her eyes again to see Wally Dougal's mug shot, and flinched; she received another figurative punch in the gut when his and then Mitch's formal Navy ID photos appeared on screen. Apparently someone in the media had connected the dots.

Suddenly there was a different shot. A terrible accident scene, with a beaten-up white pick-up truck smashed into a ruined wreck of a car.

 _Her_ car.

No one had told her the media had been there that night, and had taken pictures.

It was too much. Dougal, Mitch, her car, one right after the other like that — she couldn't breathe. Oh god, she couldn't breathe. There were bands of steel closing around her chest, and her vision blurred. The room was closing in around her. She started hyperventilating, desperate for air.

"Natalie. _Natalie._ " Sharona was suddenly there, kneeling beside her chair, holding her hands and speaking in a clear, firm tone. "Listen to me. You need to take a deep breath, okay? You're breathing too fast. Take a long, deep breath."

Her heart was pounding so hard she thought it was going to burst out of her chest, but she tried to do what Sharona said. She sucked in a breath, feeling a faint pang in her ribs as she did so.

"That's good," Sharona encouraged. "Try again. A long, deep breath."

She took a second deep breath, and found it a little easier. Gradually, with Sharona's gentle coaching, her breathing slowed and her heart stopped pounding quite so frantically. The bands of tension around her chest eased. She couldn't stop trembling, though, and tears of humiliation ran down her cheeks as she realized that everyone in the restaurant was staring at her.

"Can you walk?" Sharona asked. Natalie nodded, although she was far from sure.

Both T.K. and Sharona supported her as she made her way out the door on shaky legs. She felt somewhat better once she was safely ensconced in the backseat of T.K.'s car, away from curious eyes. Julie and Cassandra were hovering nearby, their faces worried. Peggy had remained behind to deal with the check.

Sharona efficiently bucked her seat belt. "We're going to take you home, okay? Just sit tight."

She murmured something to Julie before she got into the backseat from the other side of the car, and Julie nodded. Natalie closed her eyes, striving to keep the anxiety at bay. She couldn't even say goodbye to her daughter for fear that she'd start crying again. _You're fine. You're safe_ , she told herself firmly. _Everything's all right._

But she didn't feel all right. After T.K. pulled into her driveway, Natalie could barely stumble from the car. Adrian was by her side the next moment, and she realized he must have been waiting outside for them. Someone — Julie, she supposed — had called to tell him what had happened.

Adrian took one look at her ashen face and scooped her into his arms so he could carry her inside. She clung to him, grateful, as she wasn't sure how much longer her legs would have supported her. When he laid her on the couch, she kept her arms around his neck. "Don't go," she whispered.

"I'm not going anywhere," he said, shifting to gather her in his arms as he eased down onto the couch. "I'm staying right here."

Natalie collapsed limply against him. Sharona, who'd gone before them to open to door, sat on her other side so she could take her pulse.

"Did you see the newscast?" Sharona asked Adrian, her eyes trained on her watch.

He nodded grimly. "I already talked to Leland. No one from the police department or in the district attorney's office knew the media was going to break the story tonight, otherwise they would have warned us." His mouth tightened in anger. "We also didn't know the media had pictures of her accident."

"Well, the two of you were a little distracted that night," Sharona murmured. She breathed a sigh of relief. "Her pulse has slowed down."

Natalie felt immeasurably better now that she was home and safe in Adrian's arms. "I'm sorry," she whispered against his chest.

"Hey," he said, stroking her hair. "You have nothing to be sorry about."

"I don't know why that happened," she said, tears forming in her eyes. "One minute I was fine, and the next — "

"You had a panic attack," Sharona said, her voice gentle. "It's completely understandable, given what you've been through lately."

Natalie closed her eyes, thinking back to multiple panic attacks she had nursed Adrian through during her years as his assistant. She'd had no idea how horrific they felt. _How_ had he managed to stay relatively sane for so long?

"I'm taking you to bed," she heard him say as he lifted her. She thought about raising a token protest, but she was too exhausted.

Sharona followed him, and helped him ease an already sleeping Natalie out of her clothes and into a loose nightgown. "I'm staying here tonight," she told Adrian, in a tone that brooked no argument.

He merely nodded, grateful for her help, and her company.

Natalie had multiple nightmares that night, one on top of the other. She dreamed of her accident, Wally Dougal's beefy fist against her face, Mitch's plane crashing, Dale the Whale's mocking laughter. But each time she woke, heart pounding, chest heaving, Adrian was there to calm her down and soothe her back to sleep. She finally fell into a deep, dreamless sleep a few hours before dawn.

* * *

When she woke, she was initially disoriented. She was alone, the spot on the bed next to her cool to the touch. All the blinds had been drawn so the room was dim, but she could see bright sunlight peeking through the slats. When she checked the clock, she was shocked to see that it was after nine a.m.

She felt… not necessarily better, but calmer. More in control of herself. As she lay in bed, taking stock of her surroundings, she became aware of voices downstairs. She heard Adrian speaking, then Sharona, and then… was that Leland Stottlemeyer? Yes, it was. A fourth voice chimed in, and she recognized Randy. What on earth were they doing here so early in the day? Was there a case?

She slipped out of bed, vaguely confused by the fact that she was wearing a nightgown. She didn't remember changing into one last night. But then, most of last evening was largely a blur, marked by memories of strong emotion – mostly fear and panic – but no concrete events.

Natalie quickly splashed some water on her face, ran a brush through her hair, and changed into jeans and a blouse. She went out into the hallway but paused at the top of the stairs as she heard Adrian's voice.

"…anything we can do? This is private property," he was saying.

"They're staying on the public sidewalk," Leland said. "If they cross the property line we can arrest them for trespassing, but that's about it."

Alarmed, she padded down the stairs. "Adrian?" Four heads – Adrian, Sharona, Leland, and Randy – turned in her direction. "What's going on?" she asked, noting that all the blinds were tightly shut and the curtains were drawn.

"Hey," he said, rising to greet her. "I was hoping you'd sleep longer."

She saw his haggard face and weary eyes, and felt a twinge of guilt for causing him such a wakeful night. "It's past nine," she remonstrated. "What's wrong?"

He sighed. "There are reporters camped outside the house."

"What?" She stared at him, stunned. "Why?"

"The news broadcast from last night was picked up by CNN," Leland said. "It aired early this morning. Other stations picked it up from there."

"CNN?" she repeated. National news. They had made _national_ _news_. She wasn't sure if she should be flattered or terrified. Or both. Granted, it wasn't the first time one of Adrian's cases had been picked up by national news channels, but this was different. This was Mitch's case. And Trudy's case.

"I had to take the phone off the hook," Sharona said. "You've been getting calls all morning."

"You guys are famous," Randy said with a crooked smile.

She gasped as a thought occurred to her. "What about Julie? Have they – "

"I've already talked to UCPD," Leland said, referring to the University of California-Berkeley Police Department. "They're going to keep an eye out for reporters on campus. If needed they'll assign an officer to escort her to and from class. But so far she hasn't been mentioned in any of the media reports, so I don't think they're going to bother her."

"Do we need to do something?" she asked uncertainly. "Like… release a statement?" Having grown up as the child of a rich CEO, she vaguely remembered her parents dealing with occasional media attention.

"The district attorney's office is holding a joint press conference with the police department and the Navy tomorrow morning," Adrian said, reaching for her hand. "The captain and I are going to prepare a statement. They've asked us to be there, but you don't have to go if you don't want to."

"Are you going?" she asked him.

He nodded.

"Then I'm going, too."

"Are you sure?" he said anxiously. "Given what happened last night, it's understandable if you – "

"I'm okay now," she said, cutting him off irritably. "Last night I was just… taken by surprise, that's all. I'll be more prepared tomorrow."

"All right," he conceded reluctantly. "But if you change your mind, you can back out at any time."

"If you're planning on going tomorrow, you need to rest today," Sharona said firmly. "And right now you should have some breakfast." She pointed at Adrian. "You, too. You look like hell."

"Thanks," he said glumly as she strode into the kitchen.

"We'd better get back," Leland said to Randy. As they opened the front door, Natalie flinched at the sight of flashbulbs and sound of cameras clicking. Leland quickly closed the door behind him and the room was silent again.

"How long do you think this is going to last?" Natalie asked shakily.

Adrian shook his head. "No idea. Hopefully only a few days. Maybe the press conference will help things die down."

He looked exhausted. "How long have you been up?" she asked, leaning into him.

He wrapped his arms around her. "Leland called shortly after six to tell us about the CNN newscast."

She frowned. "I didn't hear the phone."

"You were sleeping pretty soundly at the time. We had at least a dozen calls before Sharona finally disconnected the phone, and you didn't even stir." He gently caressed her cheek. "I'm glad you were able to get some sleep, anyway."

"But _you_ didn't," she murmured fretfully.

"Maybe it's best that I start getting used to sleepless nights," he said, very quietly, and for a moment she didn't understand what he meant. Once she did, her smile bloomed.

"We can start working on that right away, if you want," she said softly.

He shook his head. "Don't tempt me," he said, grinning at her.

Impulsively, she kissed him, and they forgot about everyone and everything else for several exquisite minutes.

"Oh, for crying out loud, get a room," Sharona said as she came out of the kitchen. The tantalizing scents of bacon and eggs hung heavy in the air.

They reluctantly broke apart. "You sound like Julie," Natalie laughed.

"Poor kid. I'm beginning to feel sorry for her," Sharona said. Her face was stern but her eyes were amused.

"I'd like to point out that we're in the privacy of our own home," Adrian said mildly.

"But you're not exactly alone at the moment, are you?" Sharona gestured to the kitchen. "Go on, eat before it gets cold."

"You're an angel, Sharona," Natalie said, feeling her stomach rumble with sudden hunger. She headed for the kitchen.

Adrian followed her, but he stopped for a moment to touch Sharona's arm. "Thank you," he said, and surprised the hell out of her by placing a gentle kiss on her cheek. "For everything."

"You're welcome," she said, too astonished to even crack a joke. After he'd gone into the kitchen, she smiled, touched her cheek, and followed him in.


	27. Chapter 27

The next morning, Adrian and Natalie rode with Randy to the press conference, as Leland had gone in early to confer with the DA. Adrian was grateful he didn't have to deal with dodging reporters in his own car. Driving still made him nervous; having to drive while being careful not to hit people swarming around his car was the stuff of nightmares.

Natalie hadn't attempted driving yet, given her health restrictions. Truth be told, she didn't like the idea. Whenever she thought about getting behind the wheel of a car again, her hands got all clammy and she had to start thinking about something else. It would take time, she supposed, to get over the phobia.

When they arrived at the courthouse, they were quickly ushered inside and up to a room set aside for the conference participants. Adrian stole another admiring glance at Natalie as they hurried up the stairs. Her hair was swept up in a simple French twist; she was wearing a sedate black dress and heels, small diamond ear studs, and Trudy's necklace. He thought she looked both dignified and lovely.

He was wearing a basic black suit and tie, as were the other men present – including the district attorney, the ADA, the chief of police, and the police commissioner. Various aides and assistants swarmed the room, as did the DA's public relations people, even though the press conference wasn't set to start for another forty-five minutes.

Adrian scanned the room for Leland, and spotted him with two men in navy blue military uniforms at the far end. One of men he recognized as Lieutenant Keith Gautier out of the San Diego JAG Corps, who had worked with them to solve Trudy and Mitch's cases. The other officer – African-American, late fifties, salt and pepper hair, dark, piercing eyes, and a strong, clean-shaven face – was a stranger to him.

But not, apparently, to Natalie. When she saw him, she stopped in her tracks and gasped softly.

"You okay?" he asked, instantly on alert. The two naval officers had seen them enter and were heading toward them, Leland in tow.

She didn't answer him; her eyes stayed on the face of the unfamiliar officer as he approached them.

"Natalie," he said warmly, taking her hand gently in his. "It's good to see you again."

"Commander Mayrick," she said, a small smile touching her lips. Her eyes narrowed in on the rank insignia on his uniform. "Captain Mayrick now, I see. Congratulations."

"Thank you." He smiled, flashing a mouthful of white, even teeth. "I swear you haven't aged in twelve years. How do you do it?"

She blushed. "Just lucky, I guess." Suddenly, she seemed remember that Adrian was standing beside her. "Adrian Monk, this is Comm—that is, _Captain_ Daniel Mayrick. He was Mitch's commanding officer. Captain Mayrick, this is my fiancé, Adrian Monk."

Mayrick clasped his hands behind his back in a relaxed military posture and nodded at him respectfully, a sure sign that he'd been briefed by Lieutenant Gautier about Adrian's dislike of handshakes. "Mr. Monk, your impressive reputation precedes you. It's a very great honor."

"Thank you, Captain," Adrian said, nodding in return. "I'm equally honored."

"And how's little Julie?" Captain Mayrick asked Natalie.

She laughed. "Not so little anymore. She's taller than I am, and she's a freshman at Berkeley."

"Julie's in _college_?" he said, shaking his head in amazement. "Last time I saw her, she was still throwing princess tea parties."

Natalie dug in her purse for a recent picture. "Look at her," Mayrick said admiringly. "Spitting image of Mitch."

"She's definitely her father's daughter," Natalie agreed.

"But with her mother's spunk," Adrian chimed in, causing Natalie to blush again as Mayrick laughed.

"Before the conference gets underway, we were wondering if we could have a private word with the two of you," Lieutenant Gautier said to them.

"All right," Natalie said, nonplussed, as Adrian nodded.

"There's a small conference room through there," Leland said, pointing at a doorway across the room. Adrian caught his eye and gave him a questioning glance, but Leland ignored him. "Someone will come get you when we're ready to get started."

Mayrick ushered them in to the room, closing the door behind him. After they'd taken seats around the small table, Mayrick took two sealed white envelopes out of his inside jacket pocket. He handed one to Natalie and one to Adrian.

"I've been instructed to give you these," he said simply.

The envelope bore her name in typed letters. Mystified, Natalie slowly unsealed it and drew out a letter on heavy white paper. Unfolding it, she saw the large and colorful insignia of the Navy, followed by bold black letters.

 **THIS IS TO CERTIFY THAT**

 **THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES HAS AWARDED THE**

 **BRONZE STAR MEDAL (POSTHUMOUS)**

 **TO**

 **LIEUTENANT COMMANDER MITCHELL AARON TEEGER**

 **FOR EXCEPTIONALLY MERITORIOUS CONDUCT IN THE PERFORMANCE OF OUTSTANDING SERVICE TO THE UNITED STATES**

It was signed by the Secretary of the Navy.

Natalie raised brimming eyes to Captain Mayrick.

"The official citation will be awarded with the medal," he told her, quietly. "But we wanted to notify you as soon as possible."

Beside her, Adrian held a similar letter in trembling hands, one that cited the posthumous awarding of the Navy Distinguished Public Service Award to Trudy Anne Monk for "exceptionally outstanding service of substantial and long-term benefit to the Department of the Navy."

Adrian and Natalie stared at each other in mutual astonishment.

"I know this is sudden," Gautier said apologetically, "but… with your permission… we were hoping that we could announce both awards during the press conference."

"Of course," Natalie said, her voice barely above a whisper. Adrian merely nodded; his throat was too tight to speak.

Both officers smiled their thanks. "We'll give you some time alone," Mayrick said, rising to his feet. On his way to the door, he lightly touched Natalie's shoulder. "It's an honor that's long overdue," he said, then exited the room.

As Gautier passed her chair on his way to the door, Natalie suddenly stood up and took a few steps toward him. "Lieutenant," she said, still clutching the letter in her hand, "did you do this?"

He paused. "I contacted Captain Mayrick and suggested the nominations, yes," he acknowledged, "but only after Mr. Monk asked me if it were possible for Commander Teeger to be honored in some way for his service." He smiled in Adrian's direction. "It was a good idea, but not entirely complete, as it occurred to me that Trudy Monk deserved to be honored for her service as well. I'm pleased the Navy agreed."

As he left the room, Natalie slowly turned on her heel to look at Adrian, who was staring at the floor, his ears bright red.

"When did you talk to the lieutenant about this?" Natalie asked him. Her voice held the same odd tone it had the night of their engagement, after he'd told her about asking Julie for permission to marry her mother.

"The day after he arrived, while we were at the station," Adrian confessed. He hadn't intended that she should ever find out he'd made the suggestion.

That was the same day she'd been held captive by Wally Dougal, she realized. She and Adrian had spent the entire afternoon at the station house, engaged in endless busywork to keep themselves occupied as the search for Dougal continued. Thinking back to that day, she remembered that she'd seen Adrian in Stottlemeyer's office, speaking to Lieutenant Gautier about something, but at the time she hadn't paid much attention.

That had been before their engagement. Before their relationship. Before he'd told her that he loved her. Before he'd even _realized_ that he loved her, according to what he'd said.

"Why?" she asked softly.

He raised his eyes to hers, shrugging self-consciously. "You've always known Mitch was a hero. I thought the world should know it too." He glanced at his letter. "But I wasn't expecting… I didn't know…"

She couldn't say why it meant so much that he'd done this for her, not as her boyfriend, or her lover, or her fiancé, but simply as her friend. It was, she suddenly understood, the best and most meaningful way that he have possibly communicated his respect and regard for her.

And if she hadn't already fallen head over heels in love with him, that one act would have thoroughly accomplished it.

"I didn't think it was possible to love you even more than I already did," she said quietly. "I was wrong."

Overcome, he surged to his feet and pulled her into his arms. They clung to each other in silence until a knock on the door interrupted them, and one of the PR reps came in to usher them to their assigned seats in the media room.

The conference went as Adrian had expected. First, the district attorney, flanked by the police commissioner and the chief of police, spoke. His narrative was simple and straightforward. After years of no leads, the sudden discovery of previously unknown documents belonging to Trudy Monk had uncovered the involvement of Lieutenant Commander Mitchell Teeger in exposing a child sex ring run by former Navy officials. That discovery in turn led to the capture and arrest of former Lieutenant Wallace Dougal, who had in turn pled guilty to homicide in exchange for his testimony against the man who had hired him to kill Commander Teeger, the late Dale Biederbeck. Dougal had also testified that his cousin, Frank Nunn, had been hired to kill Trudy Monk before she could break the story to the media. Thus, after twelve years, Trudy Monk's case was deemed solved, and was being officially closed.

Captain Mayrick spoke next. His statement was brief. Commander Teeger's death was being officially reclassified as a homicide, although his death was still considered as having occurred in the line of duty. In recognition of his service in this case, he would be posthumously awarded the Bronze Star; additionally, Trudy Monk would be posthumously granted the Navy Distinguished Public Service Award, a civilian honor, for her contribution. The United States Navy thanked the SFPD, and Mr. Adrian Monk and Ms. Natalie Teeger in particular, for their assistance in the case, and for bringing both Lt. Dougal and Dale Biederbeck to justice.

At the mention of the awards, Adrian and Natalie had glanced at each other, but, mindful they were on camera, didn't dare do anything more than squeeze hands.

The reporters had stayed respectfully quiet during both statements, but when the DA asked if there were any questions, all hell broke loose. The questions came fast and furiously.

"Can you confirm that Monk and Teeger are engaged?"

"How long have they known about the connection between their late spouses?"

"Was Dougal's attack on Ms. Teeger several months ago related to her late husband's case?"

"Has Natalie Teeger's car accident affected their wedding plans?"

"Is Ms. Teeger fully recovered from her injuries?"

"Will Teeger continue working as Monk's assistant after their marriage?"

"Where will their wedding be held?"

"Have they set a date?"

"Where are they honeymooning?"

Adrian and Natalie exchanged a look of exasperation. "Are they going to ask about our sex life, too?" Natalie murmured into his ear.

"Shush," he whispered under his breath, subtly poking her in the side.

Captain Stottlemeyer rose to address the flurry of questions with the statement he and Adrian had prepared the previous day. It, too, was short and simple, acknowledging that Adrian and Natalie were indeed engaged to be married, they preferred not to release any further details about their personal lives, and they thanked the media for respecting their privacy.

But the shouted questions continued, even after the DA thanked the members of the press for coming and officially closed the conference.

"Where are we _honeymooning_?" Natalie said, irritated, after they had been ushered safely out of earshot. "Why do they even care?"

"It's a love story for the ages," Leland said whimsically. When both Adrian and Natalie stared at him, he shrugged. "That's what they said on CNN."

Adrian rolled his shoulders. "I guess it is rather incredible, when you think about it," he admitted.

"Do you still think the press conference will help the story die down?" Natalie asked.

He looked uneasy. "I don't know. By the sounds of things in there, maybe not."

At that moment, they were approached by Captain Mayrick and Lieutenant Gautier. "Quite the circus," Gautier commented.

"There are reporters camped outside my house as we speak," Natalie told him. "It's crazy."

"I hate to add to the craziness, but I was hoping we could arrange a date for the awards ceremony," Mayrick said. "The lieutenant and I were thinking May first, but it's entirely up to you."

She quickly conferred with Adrian. "That works for us," she said. "Do you have a location yet?"

"No, but Captain Stottlemeyer has volunteered to coordinate that, so he'll let you know when and where," he said. "I have to fly back to Norfolk tonight, but I'll be here for the ceremony, of course." He embraced her warmly. "It was wonderful to see you again, and I'm very happy for you and Mr. Monk. I think Mitch would be too."

"I know he would be," she said, hugging him tightly in return. Like her, he had never believed that Mitch had been capable of betraying his country or his crewmates, and his staunch loyalty to his fallen officer had been one of the few things that had kept her sane in the aftermath of Mitch's death.

When she released him, Adrian gently touched her back. "Are you ready to go?"

She nodded, and Randy escorted them out.


	28. Chapter 28

The media furor didn't die down after the press conference as they'd hoped. Natalie was supremely annoyed. She'd spent two weeks stuck inside the house on bed rest, and now she felt like a prisoner in her own home again, as going out meant dealing with reporters. The national attention seemed to have subsided, but the story was still a local sensation, thanks to Adrian's city-wide fame.

When Drs. Bell and Hector arrived on Friday evening, Natalie felt she had to apologize for the phalanx of reporters that still manned the public sidewalk outside her home. "Has it been like this all week?" Dr. Hector asked, glancing out the window.

"Yes," Natalie admitted. "We were hoping they'd lose interest and go away after a few days, but it didn't happen."

"How aggravating." But Dr. Hector smiled at her. "You seem to be holding up well under the stress, though."

Natalie flushed, pleased she thought so. "I guess it's making the limited activity easier to manage, since I really don't want to leave the house if I can help it."

"Silver linings," Dr. Bell said. His smile grew wider as Adrian came down the stairs. "Hello, Adrian."

He nodded at him and Dr. Hector. "Thanks for coming by."

"It's our pleasure," Dr. Hector said, reaching into her large burgundy leather purse. She drew out a stethoscope. "Well, Natalie, ready for the moment of truth?"

They went upstairs to her bedroom, where Natalie patiently submitted to Dr. Hector's examination as Adrian and Dr. Bell waited downstairs. It was thorough, just as the doctor had promised several weeks before. The doctor checked her lungs, felt her ribs, examined her forehead, and inspected her chest incision, just as Dr. Harmon had. She also insisted on watching Natalie weigh herself, and even looked in her medicine cabinet to inspect her remaining bottles of painkillers.

Once she was done, it was Dr. Bell's turn. He quizzed her thoroughly about her mental state. Natalie openly admitted to the nightmares, even though they had lessened in frequency, the panic attack the previous Sunday, and her inability to even think about driving again. Dr. Bell didn't seem surprised by any of her revelations, leading her to suspect that he'd already heard about them from Adrian.

The two doctors quietly conferred in the kitchen while Adrian and Natalie waited in the living room. Natalie couldn't stay still. She alternately drummed her fingers and picked at the couch cushions until Adrian grabbed her hands and held them tightly. "Relax," he urged.

"I can't," she said, shooting an anxious look in the direction of the kitchen. "What if she thinks I'm not healed enough for June fourth?"

"Then we'll get married on July thirtieth instead."

"Adrian, I don't want to wait that long." The heat in her gaze had him blushing. "Waiting until June is going to be hard enough the way it is."

"I know," he said, his throat tight with longing. "But we'll manage, whatever happens."

Drs. Bell and Hector came in then, and they jumped to their feet. "Well?" Natalie said nervously.

The two doctors exchanged a glance. "I'm very pleased with your progress," Dr. Hector said, unable to keep from smiling. "Keep on recovering at this rate, and you'll be back to one hundred percent in no time. You're cleared for June."

"Yes!" Natalie crowed. She threw herself into Adrian's arms, and they hugged in mutual jubilation.

"It's very good timing," Dr. Hector said, "especially since I offered Sharona a job this morning."

"You did?" Adrian said, his eyes wide with surprise. Sharona hadn't said a thing to them about it.

"She didn't want to officially accept until after I examined Natalie," Dr. Hector explained. "But I'm going to call her later tonight with my findings, and I hope she'll formally accept then."

"I'll call her, too, and tell her she's fired, effective immediately," Natalie said, laughing.

"There's just one caveat," Dr. Bell said, tempering their enthusiasm a little. "I would like to start regular sessions with you, Natalie. We don't want any more panic attacks before – or on – the big day, and I don't like the sound of those nightmares, either."

"I understand," Natalie said, sounding more than a little relieved. "I'll call your office first thing on Monday to schedule an appointment. I promise."

"See that you do," he said, but he was smiling. "Now, regarding your unwelcome visitors – " He glanced out the window. "I think you should give an interview."

Adrian shook his head immediately. "Dr. Bell, I really don't want – "

"I know," Dr. Bell interrupted. "You don't want your private lives all over the television or the papers. But if you give one interview to someone you can trust to be fair, and not play up the more… sensational… side of things, it'll serve to satisfy public curiosity. And once the facts are out, it'll make the paparazzi over there lose interest in hounding you."

Natalie touched Adrian's hand. "Maybe we should consider it."

"I don't trust anyone in the media," he protested.

"What about that journalist at the _Dispatch_ who always writes about you?" Dr. Bell asked. "I've always found her articles fair and objective."

Adrian frowned. "She wrote an article about our engagement."

"I saw it," Dr. Bell said, nodding. "It struck me as a very balanced and respectful piece. It said she called you for comment, didn't it?"

He nodded grudgingly.

"Many reporters wouldn't have done even that much," Dr. Bell said reasonably. "But she tried to give you the opportunity to comment before she ran the story."

Adrian and Natalie shared a long, contemplative glance. "We'll think about it," Adrian said at last.

"We'd best be going, as we've taken up enough of your time," Dr. Hector said smoothly. "But I do hope we'll get one of those wedding invitations."

"Count on it," Natalie said, smiling.

* * *

After long discussions with Natalie over the weekend, Adrian ended up calling Susanne Campana on Monday. She was enthusiastic about his request for an interview, so much so that she volunteered to come that evening. He could sense an air of disappointment around the reporters still camped out on their sidewalk when she pulled into their driveway, and he hoped fervently that Dr. Bell was right about the interview dispelling the media attention.

Susanne Campana gave him a dazzling smile when he opened the front door and ushered her inside. "Thank you so much for this opportunity, Mr. Monk. I was thrilled beyond words when you called this morning." She was an attractive Latina woman in her mid-thirties, with ringlets of dark silky hair, skin the color of café au lait, and huge dark eyes. She was also surprisingly tall, towering over Natalie and even two inches above himself at a height of nearly six feet. Monk saw with a practiced eye that she was really five foot nine, but wore three inch heels to augment her height. She looked faintly familiar, although, to his chagrin, he couldn't recall where he'd seen her before. Her picture had never appeared with her byline that he could remember.

"To be completely honest, Ms. Campana," he said, closing the door, "I'm still not entirely sure this is a good idea, but – " He glanced at Natalie, who had risen from the couch to greet the reporter, "we felt we had to do something to get the vultures out there to lose interest."

"I understand," Susanne said warmly. "I promise you that I'm not interested in making a sensation, but only in reporting the truth. I used to work with your late wife, you know."

"What?" He took a step back in his shock. "You worked with Trudy?"

She nodded. "I was an intern at the _Chronicle_ when she was a reporter there. She taught me a lot. It's one of the reasons I've followed your career so closely."

Adrian's eyes narrowed as his brain rapidly flipped through a mental file. "You were Susie Hernandez?"

Her eyes widened in surprise. "Hernandez is my maiden name, yes."

"Trudy mentioned you occasionally," he said. Another memory flashed before his eyes, and he suddenly realized where he'd seen her before. "And… you were at her funeral, weren't you?"

"That's right," she confirmed. "I wasn't sure you'd remember."

"He remembers everything," Natalie said, slipping an arm around his waist.

Susanne grinned. "Of course he does."

Trudy had spoken highly of her, Adrian recalled. She'd been impressed by the intern's tenacity and her willingness to learn. It made him feel much better about the interview ahead. Trudy would have refused to work with anyone, intern or otherwise, if she'd had any doubts about their integrity, or their dedication to their craft.

They seated themselves in the living room. Adrian and Natalie sat on the sofa, holding hands tightly, while Susanne took the chair next to the couch. She took out a small tape recorder – much slimmer and sleeker than the one that Adrian remembered Trudy using – and, after setting it on the coffee table, turned it on. "Do I have your permission to record this interview?" she asked.

Both Adrian and Natalie gave verbal assent, and Susanne, for the benefit of the recorder, stated her name, their names, the date, and the time. "Now, I'm going to ask a lot of questions, and many of them will be very personal," she said, "but they're going to be mostly for my own information, so that I can get a thorough picture. If you want something off the record, just say so, all right?" At their nods, she got down to business.

"I'm going to start with the big question that's on everyone's mind at the moment," she said. "When exactly did you find out about the connection between your late spouses?"

"About four months ago. To be precise, it was the day after Christmas," Adrian said. "I found some files of Trudy's that I'd had no idea existed until that day. With the files, there was a cassette tape labeled with my name. In that tape, Trudy named Natalie's late husband as a confidential informant."

"How did you find the files?"

Adrian explained about the last Christmas gift from Trudy he'd kept under his tree for so many years, and where it had led.

"What made you decide to open it at last?" Susanne asked. She leaned forward slightly, eager for his answer.

"I – " He fumbled a little, glancing at Natalie. She seemed equally as interested as Susanne. "I'm not entirely sure. In hindsight, I think it was because a part of me had made the decision to… well… to move on, but I couldn't do that until I'd... tied up some loose ends. Trudy's last gift was one of them."

"Did Ms. Teeger play a role in your decision to move on?"

He flushed. "Again, in hindsight… I think she _was_ the reason. But I didn't fully understand that at the time."

"So, at the time you discovered the connection between Mitch and Trudy, the two of you weren't… involved?"

"Not romantically, no," Natalie said, shaking her head.

"When did that come about?"

Sensing that Adrian was feeling rather tongue-tied, Natalie decided to continue the story. "It was a few days after Christmas, I guess, that we… mutually admitted our feelings for one another."

"Mr. Monk indicated his feelings for you predated the discovery of Trudy's files. What about yours for him? Did they predate the discovery as well?"

She flushed, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. "They did."

At her admission, Adrian sat up straight. He turned to look at her.

"May I ask how long?" Susanne said gently.

"I – " Natalie almost considered fibbing for a moment, but she couldn't bring herself to be less than wholly honest, especially in view of Adrian's candor. "Around two years, I guess."

Adrian couldn't contain his surprise. "Two _years_?" She'd had romantic feelings for him for _that long_? Leland had suggested as much to him, but he hadn't really believed it. How was it possible that he, one of the world's greatest detectives, had been so completely oblivious to what was right in front of his eyes?

"Was there a specific moment?" Susanne pressed, ignoring Adrian's comment. "When you realized your feelings went deeper than friendship?"

"It was when I thought he was dead," Natalie said, her voice starting to tremble. She swallowed hard, making an effort to steady herself. "For days, I thought he was dead. And then I found out he wasn't, and I – " She swallowed again. "I went to find him, and when I saw him, alive, I just… I went a little crazy, I think." A self-conscious smile touched her lips. "But, like Adrian, I don't think I fully understood why at the time."

She'd kissed him, all over his face, Adrian remembered. Not on the lips, although she'd come close once or twice. How had he been so blind?

"That was during the incident with Sheriff Rollins and the parade bomb," Susanne said, and Natalie nodded.

"What about you, Mr. Monk?" Susanne asked, smoothly switching targets. "How long do you think your feelings had existed?"

"Not _that_ long," he said, still floored by Natalie's admission. "You wrote, as I recall, an article about the case with the voodoo dolls?"

Susanne nodded as Natalie shuddered at the memory.

"Natalie was being attacked in the ambulance," he said, his eyes distant as he recalled the event. "I could see her struggling with Angeline Dilworth, and I was worried sick. After we managed to run the ambulance off the road, I ran over to it, opened the doors, and pulled her into my arms. And for a while there… I didn't want to let her go."

Natalie remembered that moment clearly. He'd thrown open the ambulance doors and grabbed for her. She'd collapsed into his arms with weak relief… and he'd hugged her to him, something he'd never done before.

Adrian blushed, having said more than he'd intended. "It still took me a while – a long while – afterwards to figure out what I was feeling, and why."

"What was the catalyst that led the two of you to finally acknowledge your feelings for each other? Was it the discovery of Mitch and Trudy's connection?"

"I think so," Adrian said, glancing at Natalie for confirmation.

She nodded. "We had a lot of complicated feelings to work through, related to their cases, and it sort of… brought all of our emotions to the surface."

"You said earlier that your involvement started a few days after Christmas. Was there a dramatic moment of truth, or was it more understated?"

"There was a moment of truth for me," Adrian said, squeezing Natalie's hand. "It was during the hostage situation with Wallace Dougal. I realized, right then, that I was in love with her, and later that night, after everything had calmed down and we were back at my place, I told her so."

Susanne turned keen eyes to Natalie. "And did you reciprocate at that time?"

Natalie shook her head. "Not right away. I still had some reservations. It wasn't until New Year's Eve that I… responded in kind."

"At the Gala?" Susanne said knowingly.

Adrian and Natalie both laughed. "Yes, at the Gala," Adrian confirmed. "I don't suppose you'd be interested in sharing the source who saw us 'dancing intimately'?"

"I never reveal my sources, Mr. Monk," Susanne said, her eyes dancing with humor. "I will say, however, that having a brother in the SFPD means that I know a lot of cops, many of whom were in attendance that night."

The interview continued along the same lines for about an hour more. At times, both Adrian and Natalie forgot they were talking with a reporter; she had a clever way of making them feel like they were old friends just chatting about this and that. Trudy had mastered that ability as well, Adrian recalled.

He told the story of their engagement, but kept the part about Natalie's initial reaction to his proposal off the record; they discussed Natalie's accident (but studiously avoided any mention of the argument that had preceded it) and her favorable prognosis, as well as the wedding now definitely planned for June fourth (Cassandra had, that very morning, given their printer the green light to print and mail the invitations). Both of them expressed their pride and pleasure at the awards being granted to both Trudy and Mitch by the Navy.

Adrian breathed a sigh of relief when Susanne turned her recorder off. He'd talked much more freely than he'd anticipated, and he hoped desperately that his trust in her wasn't misplaced. His gut told him it wasn't, so he tried not to second-guess his own instincts.

"Once again, Mr. Monk, it was a pleasure," Susanne said. She offered Natalie a handshake. "And thank you, Ms. Teeger, for your time, and your candor."

"Do you know when the story will be published?" Natalie asked.

"My editor has big plans for the front page of the Sunday edition," Susanne said with a smile. "But below the fold, he says. I just hope I can get it written in time."

Somehow, Adrian didn't doubt that she would. He ushered her out, and the minute the door was shut, he turned to face Natalie. "Two _years_?"

From where she was still seated on the couch, Natalie blushed. "I guess kissing you all over your face wasn't an obvious clue?"

"It should have been." He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling like a fool. "I don't know why it wasn't."

She tilted her head and smiled. "Well, as I recall, we were a _little_ busy trying to save our own lives at the time… and then trying to save the governor's life."

"That's true," he acknowledged, "but afterwards, you'd think the notion would have at least occurred to me."

She shook her head. "You probably just dismissed it as me being overexcited."

He flushed. That was precisely what he'd done. But now that he looked back, _really_ looked back, at their interactions over the past two years, he could see other clues. Her suggestion that they should kiss while on a stakeout outside Patrick Kloster's house. Their argument after she'd started working as a lottery hostess, which had been more like a couple's argument than one between an employer and employee. Her eyes shining with pride during the special about his 100th case. Her shriek of terror after he'd been shot by John Kuramoto, and the fact she'd nearly worked herself to death afterwards to make up for what had happened — in fact, now that he thought about it, Leland Stottlemeyer had all but told him the truth at Kuramoto's crime scene. The fervent embrace she'd given him after he'd been rescued from Karl Torini. He could think of a dozen other instances.

"I'm an idiot," he said with dawning realization. It was like he'd just solved a case. He felt like he should launch into a "here's what happened" spiel.

"You're not an idiot," Natalie laughed. "Maybe a little oblivious, but not an idiot."

"What would you have done if I'd never stopped being oblivious?" he asked curiously.

She shrugged. "We would have just gone on as we were, I guess."

He cocked his head. "You would have been content with that?"

Sighing, she stretched and settled back against the couch cushions. "I was happy being with you as your assistant, and your friend. I thought it was too much to hope for anything more. I _never_ expected you to reciprocate my feelings, Adrian, not in a million years. You have no idea what a shock it was when you did."

"I was rather shocked myself," he admitted. He eased down on the couch beside her. "I wasn't expecting to fall in love with you."

She snorted. "That makes two of us."

"Well," he said, matching her pose and leaning back against the couch cushions, "I guess that only leaves one problem."

She turned her head toward his. "What problem?"

"How I'm going to keep myself from making love to you tonight." He smiled ruefully. "I'm feeling the need to make up for my idiocy."

She leaned over and kissed him, lightly. "You have the whole rest of our lives, starting on our wedding night, to do that." At his pained look, she smirked slightly. "It was your idea, and I'm holding you to it if it _kills_ me. Which it might very well do."

"What if it kills _me_?" he asked plaintively.

"You somehow managed to restrain yourself around me for several years," she reminded him, laughing at his hangdog expression. "I think you can make it six more weeks."

"I didn't know what I was missing then," he said mournfully. He shifted to sit up, his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands. "If I _had_ known what you were capable of, I would have grabbed you the very first day you walked into my apartment, and had my way with you on the foyer floor."

"Adrian!" Shocked, but secretly a little flattered, she playfully punched his shoulder.

"What?" he protested. "It's true."

"No, it's not," she said, shaking her head a little at the very idea of him even _considering_ making love on the floor, even as a joke. "But I'm pleased that you think so."

"Pleased enough to make me eat my words about the whole wedding night thing?" he asked hopefully.

She smiled sweetly. "No."

"Damn," he sighed, and settled back on the couch.


	29. Chapter 29

Dr. Bell's idea worked masterfully. Word had apparently spread about Susanne Campana's exclusive interview, and by Wednesday there was not a single reporter left at their house.

Adrian, meanwhile, was preoccupied trying to reach Dwight and Marcia Ellison to tell them about Trudy's award and the upcoming ceremony. Apparently the Ellisons had taken an extended vacation to Italy for their fiftieth wedding anniversary, and between the different time zones and their erratic travel schedule (they were, according to Dwight's assistant, on a driving tour through Italy, visiting many different cities as well as several out-of-the way villages and villas) he hadn't had much luck.

He had been trying off and on to reach them for the better part of a week with no luck, the language barrier and time zone differences impeding his efforts. Finally, at Natalie's suggestion, he recruited Ambrose for help. Ambrose spoke fluent Italian and was able to leave a detailed message at the hotel at which Dwight and Marcia were expected to stay on the last leg of their trip.

Adrian and Natalie were eating breakfast Wednesday morning when Adrian's cell phone rang. He answered, and his face was suffused with delight and relief when he exclaimed, "Dwight! Thank goodness; I've been trying to get in touch for days."

Natalie put down her fork and listened intently on Adrian's side of the conversation.

"Yes, Trudy's being awarded the Navy Distinguished Public Service Award, posthumously," Adrian was saying. "For her role in the investigation." He had already called Dwight and Marcia shortly after the New Year to fill them in on the whole story, so he didn't need to do so now. "We're planning a ceremony here in San Francisco on May first. Can you make it or should we reschedule?"

He listened to Dwight's response, and smiled. "That's great."

He listened some more, nodding, and then said, "Call me when you get in and I'll let you know if anything's changed… yes, this is my cell phone number."

He laughed at whatever Dwight said. "Yes, believe it or not, I have a cell phone."

Natalie grinned at that.

"Okay. Thanks, Dwight. Yes, I will. Give my love to Marcia, too. We'll see you soon. Have a safe flight home."

He ended the call and stuck the phone back in his pocket. "They're scheduled to fly back to California on April twenty-eighth, but Dwight's going to see if he can change their flight so that they fly into San Francisco instead of Los Angeles. If he can't do that, they'll just book another flight from L.A. to here for the day they get back."

"We could just postpone the ceremony," Natalie suggested, "if they'll need more recovery time after a long plane ride like that."

Adrian waved her suggestion away. "Leland's already booked the Center for Captain Mayrick," he said, referring to the Scottish Rite Masonic Center, where the SFPD typically held their award ceremonies. "And Dwight says once they get back they'll spend a day or two laying low at the hotel, which should give them plenty of time to rest before the ceremony." He was grinning ear-to-ear, genuinely excited at the prospect of seeing his former in-laws again.

Natalie, however, seemed less enthused. "That's good news," she said with a halfhearted smile, returning her attention to the morsels of pancake left on her plate.

Adrian gazed at her, his own smile fading. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," she said, but she didn't meet his eyes.

"You have your worried look on your face," he countered.

"What do you mean, 'my worried look'?" she asked, indignant.

"Whenever you're worried, you get a little wrinkle in the middle of your forehead," he said. "And you bite your bottom lip."

She hadn't realized her emotions were so transparent. Then again, he _was_ the greatest detective in the free world. "It's just… I'm nervous about meeting them," she confessed.

He laid his fork on his plate, focusing his full attention on her. "Why?"

"Adrian, they're _Trudy's_ _parents_ ," Natalie said, as though her words were explanation enough.

"So?" he said, utterly baffled.

"So," she said, exasperated, "what if they don't like me?"

"How could they not?" he said with complete sincerity. "Besides, everyone likes you."

"That's not true," she said, flushing with embarrassment.

"Yes, it is," he insisted. "I can't think of a single person who doesn't."

"Paul Buchanan. Julian Hodge. John Hannigan."

"They don't count," Adrian said dismissively. "They're psychopaths. And they're in prison."

"They still don't like me."

He rolled his eyes slightly. "Okay, everyone who isn't an imprisoned psychopath likes you."

"Marci Maven."

That fazed him for a moment. "Well… she isn't in prison, but I don't think psychopath is that far off."

Natalie grinned.

"Besides," Adrian continued, "Dwight told me on the phone to give you their love. They can't wait to meet you — they told me so when I originally called to tell them we were engaged."

"They were just being polite," Natalie murmured.

"They were being sincere," Adrian disagreed. "Natalie, they're going to adore you. Just trust me on this one."

She was still more worried than she wanted to let on, but she put on a brave smile. "I'll try."

Natalie did try, but she still brooded about it as the days flew by. What if they resented her for taking Trudy's place? What if they thought she wasn't good enough for Adrian? After all, who could compare to Trudy, who — like Mary Poppins — was practically perfect in every way? She couldn't even talk to Sharona about it, because Sharona had never met Trudy's parents. Leland had met them, years and years ago at Adrian's first wedding, but she doubted he'd remember them clearly enough to be of any help.

Instead of obsessing over the upcoming meeting, she tried to keep herself busy with wedding details now that she felt safe enough to leave the house again. She and Adrian made a special trip to Faddis Fine Jewelers to pick out their wedding rings. She was happy to have the opportunity to thank Mr. Faddis in person for her absolutely smashing engagement ring, and to discuss another idea she had in mind as well.

She also went to the bridal shop to try on her newly-altered wedding dress, which now fit perfectly. She sent it home with T.K., who had promised to keep it hidden at her house until the wedding so Adrian wouldn't accidentally see it.

They met with the photographer, one Cassandra had recommended, who often shot weddings at the Four Seasons and who seemed especially patient with Adrian's request for all even numbers when it came to the participants in group shots. They also met with the videographer and the emcee for the reception, as well as the DJ for the dance.

In the meantime, the RSVPs began to pour in. Natalie could hardly believe it — not a single person had sent regrets so far. Adrian had insisted on sending invitations to several highly-placed people — the mayor, the deputy mayor, the police commissioner, the chief of police, and the district attorney, just to name a few. He had assured her that the invitations were being sent only for form, out of professional courtesy, and the parties invited would likely decline due to busy schedules. However, to their mutual shock, every single one of them accepted.

"Well, what did you expect?" Julie asked them one day while helping Natalie record the RSVPs. "This is practically a celebrity wedding now. Everyone who's anyone wants to be there."

Susanne Campana's article had certainly helped with that. As she had intimated, it appeared the Sunday following the interview, and overall Adrian and Natalie were pleased with the job she'd done — so much so that they had sent her flowers as a gesture of thanks.

The story had been respectful, even a bit reverential, and had contained a bit of sly humor as well. She hadn't gone into embarrassing detail about their love story, but she had woven a pretty bit of narrative that informed the public without wholly mortifying the couple about whom she'd written.

Adrian told her that Susanne had called and asked if she could be present at the awards ceremony as well, to cover it on behalf the _Dispatch_ , and he'd given his permission. Natalie approved, but it only served to underscore how nervous she was about meeting Trudy's parents. It was going to be nerve-wracking enough meeting them for the first time at such an important event; now there'd be possible media coverage of it as well.

Dwight called Adrian the evening of April twenty-eighth to tell them that their flights had gone smoothly — he had indeed managed to change their itinerary so that they flew into San Francisco instead of L.A. — and they were resting comfortably at their hotel.

Adrian gave him the important details for the ceremony — time, address, and so on — and spent the rest of the day practically walking on air.

Natalie wished she could share in his excitement, but she was still too nervous. She tried reminding herself that it was an important day for Mitch and Trudy, and that everything else was secondary, but she couldn't seem to keep her anxiety over meeting the Ellisons at bay.

She'd noticed that, since the accident, anxiety crept up on her much more easily and was harder to manage. Dr. Bell had offered to prescribe medication, but she'd declined, at least for now. She had never liked the idea of using pills to manage her emotional state – it was something both she and Adrian had in common.

The ceremony was scheduled for 4pm, with a brief reception afterwards. It wasn't going to be a large, public ceremony — Adrian and Natalie had chosen to keep it small and private in light of the recent media attention — but even so, almost all of Stottlemeyer's Homicide division (with the exception of a small skeleton crew to man the desks) had elected to be there.

Several members of Mitch's old unit were coming, including Captain Mayrick and Lieutenant Gautier, who would be doing the presentations on behalf of the Navy, and a few of Trudy's former colleagues, along with the Ellisons, Natalie's parents, Julie, Sharona, T.K., and Drs. Bell and Hector. Cassandra had been invited, but unfortunately she had a wedding to work that day. Jonathan had originally planned on coming, but he'd fallen ill with strep throat at the last minute and was unable to make the trip from Seattle.

Also invited were Ambrose and Jack Monk, Sr., although Adrian was steeling himself against disappointment in case Ambrose decided that he wouldn't be able to show up.

Natalie spent the day of the awards ceremony in a paroxysm of nerves, so much so that even Adrian noticed and tried — but failed — to calm her down. It was only after he threatened to call Dr. Bell that she made an effort to relax by engaging in the deep breathing exercises the psychiatrist had recommended to help quell a panic attack. The exercises did help, enough that Adrian was satisfied enough not to make good on his threat.

Picking up Julie helped as well, as being with her daughter had a calming influence on her. Julie looked lovely in a trim black sleeveless dress, similar to the one Natalie herself was wearing, and she saw right away that Julie was wearing Trudy's pearls for the first time. She could tell Adrian noticed, too, by the pleased glances he kept giving the rearview mirror as they drove.

When they entered the Center, Adrian glanced around eagerly, and to his delight he spied Dwight and Marcia almost immediately. Like him, they'd arrived early, and he was grateful for the opportunity to talk with them before the ceremony began.

They'd barely changed at all in the years since he'd last seen them in person, back when he'd helped Dwight solve the Treasure Chest case, although Dwight's hair was thinner on top than he remembered and they were both sporting deep tans from the Italian sun.

Marcia embraced him affectionately after he hailed them over, and once she released him he exchanged a hug and a hearty handshake with Dwight.

"Adrian, you look _wonderful_ ," Marcia gushed, scanning him from top to toe with approving eyes. "Just wonderful."

He no longer had the lost, haunted demeanor he'd carried with him on his last visit. On the contrary, he looked years younger. His eyes were bright and his face was animated, just as they had been during his marriage to Trudy. In fact, in every way, he seemed to be Adrian they had known while their daughter was alive, instead of the wrecked, hollow shell of the man he'd been in the years after her death.

Natalie and Julie had hung back slightly during the initial greetings, but now Adrian turned and waved them over. "Dwight, Marcia," he said beaming with happiness as he took her hand and drew her forward, "this is my fiancée, Natalie Teeger."

Despite her nerves, she managed to smile shakily at the older couple. "It's a pleasure to meet you," she said, fibbing a little in order to be polite.

To her amazement, Marcia – who looked, to her, like a several-decades-older version of Trudy – had tears in her eyes. Rather than a handshake, she gave Natalie the same enthusiastic hug she'd given Adrian. "The pleasure is all ours, dear one," she said, her voice quavering with emotion.

Dwight embraced her as well, and when he drew back, his eyes were suspiciously moist. "Well, Adrian, you certainly have a knack for picking beautiful women," he said to his former son-in-law, although his warm gaze didn't leave Natalie's face. Natalie blushed at the praise.

"It's a gift," Adrian said solemnly, although his eyes were shining with pride.

"And a curse?" Marcia said, her lips quirking.

"No, just a gift," he said, grinning.

Flustered, but pleased, Natalie reached over to pull Julie into their little circle. "This is my daughter, Julie."

Julie nodded at them respectfully, her hands clasped in front of her. "It's very nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Ellison."

"No need to be so formal," Dwight said heartily as Marcia embraced Julie. "It's Dwight and Marcia."

"Aren't you just lovely," Marcia said admiringly, drawing back to frame Julie's face with her hands. "Just like your mother. Oh, I'm so thrilled to finally meet you." She pulled both Natalie and Julie into another effusive hug.

Over Marcia's shoulder, Natalie caught Adrian's eye. He raised his eyebrows and mouthed, _See?_

She grinned at him sheepishly.

"Adrian, if the three of you don't have plans after the ceremony and reception tonight, we'd love to take you out to dinner," Dwight said.

"That sounds great," Adrian said, after sending a questioning glance Natalie's way, and receiving her nod in return.

"Wonderful," Marcia beamed. "I'm so looking forward to getting to know the two of you better."

"Adrian, Captain Mayrick is here," Natalie murmured to him as she saw the Navy officer come in.

"Excuse us for a moment," Adrian said to Dwight and Marcia, and he and Natalie hurried off to confer with Mayrick.

Marcia smiled fondly after them, and then she turned to Julie. "Julie, dear, I wanted to tell you that your pearls are beautiful. We gave Trudy a necklace just like that one when she turned sixteen."

"Actually," Julie said, twisting her hands together nervously, "these are — were — Trudy's pearls. Adrian gave them to me for Christmas."

After a moment of stunned silence, Marcia smiled. "I'm sure she'd be pleased. What a lovely gesture."

"And very appropriate," Dwight added, smiling paternally.

The Davenports came in at that juncture, and Julie called out to them happily, gesturing them over.

"These are my…" she began to tell the Ellisons, but trailed off in mid-sentence. Peggy seemed rooted to the floor, staring in shock. Marcia looked similarly taken aback. The men were gazing at one another with creased brows, as if they recognized one another but couldn't remember from where.

"Marcia?" Peggy finally said, her tone unsure.

"Peggy?" Marcia responded in kind.

The two embraced like long-lost sisters.

"I can't believe this!" Marcia exclaimed.

"It's been, what, thirty years?" Peggy said, actual tears in her eyes.

"At least!"

"What on earth are you doing here?"

"What am _I_ doing here?" Marcia repeated, drawing back. "I was about to ask you the same thing!"

Peggy smiled, but her expression was bemused. "My late son-in-law is being awarded a medal."

Marcia smiled too, her expression matching Peggy's. "So is my late daughter."

"But that means — "

"You're — "

"Mom, is everything okay?" Natalie asked warily. She and Adrian had finished their conversation with Captain Mayrick and rejoined the group.

Peggy whirled on her. "You never told me that Trudy Monk's maiden name was _Ellison_!"

Marcia turned to Adrian. "And _you_ never told me that Natalie's maiden name was Davenport!"

Both Natalie and Adrian took an instinctive step backwards. "It never came up," Natalie said, glancing between the two women uncertainly.

"I didn't think of it," Adrian said at the same time.

"I take it that you two know each other?" Julie said, tongue-in-cheek.

"Of course we do!" Peggy said emphatically. "Marcia and I went to boarding school together; we were best friends! But she was Marcia Alexander back then."

"And you were Peggy Montgomery," Marcia said. "Not to mention a bridesmaid at my wedding."

"I wanted you to be a bridesmaid in _my_ wedding, but you were nine months pregnant at the time," Peggy said reminiscently.

"It's a good thing I didn't, because Trudy was born three days later." Marcia hugged Peggy again. "I still can't believe this!"

"I thought I recognized you," Bobby said, shaking hands with Dwight. "You had a lot more hair back then."

Dwight grinned. "We both did."

Adrian and Natalie could only stare at them, dumbfounded.

"You and Bobby need to come to dinner with all of us afterwards so we can catch up," Marcia told Peggy. "As long as that's all right with you, Adrian? Natalie?"

"I — of course," Adrian said, a little dazedly, as Natalie nodded her assent.

Captain Mayrick came over, then, to tell them that they were ready to get started, and there was no time for any further conversation as they filed into the auditorium.


	30. Chapter 30

The awards ceremony was short but poignant. First Captain Mayrick read the citation that accompanied Mitch's medal, citing his bravery and determination in exposing criminal activity within his unit, at the cost of his own life, and then he awarded the medal, giving it to Julie (at Natalie's request).

Lieutenant Gautier read the citation that accompanied Trudy's award, citing her similar bravery and determination to seek the truth and expose corruption within the Navy, at the cost of her own life, and then he awarded the medal to Adrian.

Neither Adrian nor Natalie could keep tears from falling, but both had expected this and had tissues at the ready. The applause from the small audience was prolonged and heartfelt. Afterwards, there were obligatory photos, and they gave a brief statement to Susanne Campana.

Both Adrian and Natalie were relieved that the reporter wasn't able to stay for the small reception. If she found out about Peggy and Marcia's connection… well, it wouldn't be a _bad_ thing, exactly, but neither of them wanted that little tidbit of news to be public knowledge quite yet — not before they'd had a chance to process it themselves.

Ambrose and Jack Monk, Sr., had indeed managed to make the ceremony. Despite the fact that the room held a great many unfamiliar people, Ambrose managed far better than Adrian had expected. He didn't mingle, but neither did he look like he was preparing to bolt at any moment. Adrian was also impressed at how his father stuck close to Ambrose's side without being obvious about it.

He introduced Ambrose and his father to the Ellisons, as well as the Davenports, and Marcia took an especial interest in drawing Ambrose out. Ambrose seemed unusually comfortable with her, even though she was a stranger, likely because she looked so much like Trudy.

Bobby Davenport, on the other hand, took an especial interest in Jack Monk, and talked with him at length. Upon hearing that Jack was still looking for a job, Bobby told him submit an application to Davenport Industries, promising that he'd personally call his HR department on Monday to recommend him for a position at one of his San Francisco warehouse locations. Behind Jack's back, Natalie winked at Adrian, and he realized she'd put in a good word for Jack with her father. He smiled his thanks, resolving to show his gratitude more effusively once they were in private.

The small reception drew to a close, and although the Ellisons invited Ambrose and Jack to join them for dinner, the two men declined, electing to go home instead. Adrian wasn't surprised by this, and took a moment to personally thank his brother, and his father, for coming to the ceremony.

In short order, Adrian, Natalie, and Julie, along with Bobby and Peggy, arrived at The Waterfront, a ritzy seafood restaurant in the Embarcadero district. Both Adrian and Natalie had initially balked at the suggestion, not wanting the Ellisons to go to so much expense on their account, but Dwight and Marcia had insisted, saying it was their favorite place to eat whenever they visited San Francisco. In fact, Adrian recalled, it was where they had taken him and Trudy to celebrate their engagement.

The restaurant had been remodeled since then so it didn't closely resemble the place he remembered, but he could still see a few familiar details, including the long patio with a superb view of the San Francisco Bay.

They were seated at a large table near the patio exit, and given water, menus, and bread with efficient speed.

"So how long has it been?" Julie asked Peggy and Marcia, after the two had been chatting nonstop about old school friends for a good fifteen minutes. "Since you two saw each other last?"

"Oh, heavens," Marcia sighed, tapping her chin with her forefinger. "Let me think. It was the summer before we moved to L.A. — Dwight, when was that? 1973?"

"Fall of 1972," Dwight supplied.

"So it must have been about thirty-eight years ago."

"Yes, it was," Peggy remembered. "Natalie had turned two about a month beforehand."

"That's right!" Marcia said. "We missed her birthday party."

"And we decided to have a lunch date to make up for it," Peggy said, nodding.

"Trudy gave Natalie that Raggedy Ann tea set, do you remember?" Marcia said, starting to laugh.

"Natalie _adored_ that tea set," Peggy said with a smile. "I think we still have it in the attic somewhere."

"They were still playing with it when we got back from lunch that day," Marcia said.

"Wait," Natalie interrupted them, her face pale. "I knew Trudy?"

"Of _course_ you did," Peggy said, taking a sip of water. "She baby-sat you all the time when Marcia and I would go out for lunch, or for a manicure or whatever."

"We invited her to come out with us, but she always preferred to stay at Peggy's house with you," Marcia said, smiling fondly at her. "She _loved_ playing with you."

"And, Marcia, remember? Whenever all of us went out together, people would assume they were sisters, because they both had blond hair and blue eyes," Peggy laughed.

"And Trudy wouldn't let us correct them," Marcia chuckled.

Adrian suddenly stood up, nearly knocking over his chair in his haste. "I'm sorry, I… excuse me," he said, his voice choked. He walked rapidly away from the table.

"Oh dear," Marcia said, the humor fading from her eyes. "Did we upset him?"

"I think he just needs a little time alone," Natalie said softly. She'd caught a glimpse of his face as he'd left the table, and she could tell he was struggling to process some deep emotion — something he'd do better with privacy.

The server came by at that juncture to take their orders. Natalie ordered for both herself and Adrian, since she probably knew better than he would what he'd want to eat, and then slipped away from the table.

She found Adrian outside in a shadowed, secluded corner of the restaurant patio, leaning against the railing and breathing in the ocean air.

"Adrian?" she said tentatively, not wanting to startle him.

He turned toward her, and she could see tears on his cheeks. "Natalie," he said, his hands gripping the rail reflexively. "I had to — I couldn't — "

"I know," she said, moving to stand next to him at the railing. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

He shook his head, his gaze returning to the water. "I can't quite wrap my mind around all this," he said. "First we find out that Trudy and Mitch knew each other. Now we find out that not only did your mother know Trudy's mother, you and Trudy knew each other. And none of us knew any of this when I took your case, or when you became my assistant. It's just…" He paused, searching for a word that could convey his feelings.

"It is pretty incredible, when you think about it," Natalie supplied, gently nudging him with her elbow.

He chuckled. "I know I said that before, but now… 'incredible' doesn't even begin to describe it."

"It's quite the coincidence," Natalie agreed.

He shook his head again. "Leland always says that 'coincidences are hooey.'"

She smiled, remembering when Leland had told her the very same thing, after they'd first found out about Mitch's cooperation with Trudy.

"I remember," Adrian said, drumming his fingers on the railing, "a particular conversation Trudy and I had about…having children. She told me how much she'd loved this little girl she used to baby-sit, and how she used to pretend they were sisters." He turned to Natalie again, the light from the setting sun reflecting the intensity in his dark eyes. "That was _you_. Trudy told me about you years before we ever met. I just didn't know it until now."

Goosebumps prickled Natalie's arms. To think, she and Adrian might never have met, and might never had unearthed these uncanny connections, if she hadn't stabbed a man to death in her living room. She never could have imagined how that one traumatic event would be the catalyst for so many amazing changes in her life.

Adrian gripped the railing so hard that his knuckles turned white. "It feels like… she _chose_ you for me. I know how strange that sounds, but — "

"It's not strange," she said quietly. "It's sort of… comforting, in a way."

His hands relaxed their death grip. "I should have known you'd understand."

"I don't remember her," she said with deep regret.

"You were so young," Adrian mused. "I'm not surprised."

" _You_ would have," Natalie pointed out. "I wish I had your memory."

"No, you don't," Adrian said emphatically. "Sometimes it's more of a curse than a gift."

"I remember the tea set, though," Natalie said, smiling. "My mother was right — I _loved_ that tea set. I just never thought to ask who'd given it to me."

"Why would you?" Adrian said, shrugging. "And even if she had told you, you may not have put two and two together when you started working for me."

"True," Natalie agreed. "You'd have to be Adrian Monk to do that."

He smiled sheepishly, putting his arm around her shoulders and hugging her to him. She rested her head against his shoulder, taking his other hand in hers. They both stood, staring out over the water, for a long moment. Then he said, "I'm starting to wonder if that's how Trudy met Mitch in the first place."

She turned to look up at him. "What do you mean?"

"Well," he said, a bit hesitantly, "what if she was trying to, I don't know, reconnect with you? Maybe something prompted her to track down the little girl she used to baby-sit. But somehow, while trying to get in touch with you, she got in contact with Mitch first, and… I don't know." He shrugged. "It's just a theory."

Natalie considered this for a moment. "It's possible," she said thoughtfully. "I guess we'll never know." She squeezed his hand. "Do you feel ready to go back?"

"I think so." He exhaled deeply. "I suppose everyone's already ordered by now."

"I ordered for both of us before I came out here," Natalie told him. "I got you the beef tenderloin, and I told them to put all of your food on separate plates."

"Did you really?" he said, raising his eyebrows.

"I did," she said, smiling.

He nodded. Then he hauled her up against him and kissed her, so thoroughly and with such passion that she half expected the wooden slats of the patio floor to burst into flames at their feet.

"Okay," he said, releasing her at last and gulping in a great lungful of fresh air. " _Now_ I'm ready to go back."

"That makes one of us," Natalie said, so breathless she felt dizzy. But in short order she caught her breath and they walked, hand in hand, back to the table.


	31. Chapter 31

The Ellisons returned to Los Angeles the following day, with promises to come back in a month's time for the wedding – and Peggy, now that she and Marcia had reconnected, had prevailed on them to spend a week at the Davenports' Monterey home following the festivities.

Natalie and Adrian met with Cassandra almost daily, sorting out various wedding details. It was truly astonishing to realize just how many details there were to take care of, Adrian thought. He hadn't been fully aware of how much work Marcia and Trudy had put into planning his first wedding so long ago, until now.

Even so, Cassandra made the process a hundred times easier than it otherwise would have been. They heavily relied on her expertise and advice in most matters, although Natalie called her mother occasionally for a second opinion — a concession that gratified Peggy immensely.

Amid the activity, Adrian was happier than he'd ever thought possible. HIs OCD had subsided enormously, to the point where he'd even conceded to having a receiving line immediately after the wedding ceremony (to Peggy Davenport's great relief, as she'd nearly fainted in shock when Natalie had mentioned not having one). He was going to _voluntarily_ shake hands with approximately one hundred people, and he wasn't even dreading it… much.

He could drive again. He could _laugh_ again. Every day, he felt happy instead of miserable. And despite feeling, especially at night, that he was going to die of sexual frustration, even that was a glad reminder that he _could_ feel desire again — and anyway, it was only temporary. Their wedding night was fast approaching, and some days he could hardly contain his anticipation and longing. In that regard, it was like the weeks before his first wedding all over again.

It was actually a good thing that Julie had finished her freshman year at Berkeley and had moved back in for the summer, because having her around as a "chaperone" of sorts kept them from getting into too much trouble.

Natalie had recovered with rapid speed. She was now eight weeks out from the accident, and officially off all restrictions. Only those who knew her intimately, as he did, would see the occasional twinge of pain on her face, or notice that she tired a bit more easily than she once had. He was immensely grateful that she was back to her old self again, save her inability to drive and her heightened anxiety.

It was a bit ironic that she'd had mental issues flare up at the same time his had finally abated somewhat. But her anxiety wasn't nearly as debilitating as his OCD had been, and she was learning to manage it with Dr. Bell's help. They'd mutually agreed to put off any discussion about her attempting to drive again until after the wedding, as they both accepted that they had enough on their plates at the moment.

Adrian was most worried not about the wedding, but about his upcoming bachelor party. Leland had refused to give him the slightest hint or clue about what he was planning. Even Randy was in the dark. All he knew was that Leland would pick him up on Saturday, two weeks prior to the wedding, at seven o'clock sharp. He didn't even know what time he'd be back home. And despite the progress he'd made in overcoming his OCD, he was beside himself wondering what Leland had planned, so much so that he spent all day Saturday cleaning obsessively.

Julie had fled the house earlier, opting to spend the day with friends. Natalie had had enough by five o'clock and ordered him upstairs to shower and dress, just to keep him from scrubbing the kitchen floor for the third time. He obeyed, albeit grumpily — there was still a smudge or two on the floor he could have taken care of — but he had to admit, it helped having something a little more constructive to keep himself occupied.

When he came back downstairs nearly two hours later, Natalie, who was curled up on the couch with her laptop, did a double-take. "Adrian," she said, her eyes as wide as saucers, "you're wearing _jeans_."

Her astonished stare made him squirm miserably. He looked down at his outfit — blue jeans, a silvery-gray T-shirt, and a black sport coat, cut very casually — then back up at her.

Her mouth was hanging open, and she abruptly snapped it shut. "I didn't even know you _owned_ a pair of jeans."

He sighed. "Julie took me shopping again."

Her eyes lit with humor. "Oh, is _that_ what you two were doing yesterday?" He and Julie had mysteriously disappeared for the afternoon and, after they'd returned, all they would say was that they'd been out running errands. Adrian had hustled the bags he'd carried up to the guest room before she could peek into them. Assuming it was a wedding-related surprise, Natalie hadn't pried.

"She said she couldn't let me show up to my bachelor party looking like her history professor," Adrian explained with another sigh. "The next thing I knew, we were at a store and she was shoving all these clothes at me, and making me try them on. And then, for some strange reason, I _bought_ them. I'm still not sure how it happened."

Natalie couldn't hide a grin. Trust Julie to have Adrian wrapped around her little finger without him even knowing it. She'd done the same thing to Mitch.

"Do I look ridiculous?" he asked, flushing with embarrassment as he fiddled with his coat sleeves.

"No, you don't." She swallowed, very much liking the way the T-shirt skimmed down his torso, and there was something extremely debonair about casual cut of the sport coat when paired with the blue jeans. "To be completely honest, you look sexy as hell."

He stopped fiddling with his jacket, and a small smile touched his lips. "Really?"

"Oh, yeah." Her eyes, alight with desire, traveled down his body.

The hungry expression on her face made his entire body feel tight. "Maybe I should skip the party and stay here," he suggested, his eyes glinting.

Natalie shook her head emphatically. "Leland would have my head."

There was a loud hammering at the door, and she grinned. "Speak of the devil," she said, hopping up from the couch to answer it.

"Hey, Natalie!" Leland Stottlemeyer greeted her enthusiastically as he stepped inside.

When he caught sight of Adrian, he recoiled slightly in surprise, but seconds later a wide grin crossed his face. "Whoa, look at you!"

"Pretty snazzy, huh?" Natalie said cheerfully.

"You look great!" Leland circled him once, then clapped him on the back. "And here I thought you were dreading this."

Adrian rolled his shoulders, a tic he hadn't been able to shed entirely. "I _am_ dreading it."

"We're going to have a _great_ time," Leland told him. "You'll thank me later!"

"I doubt that," Adrian muttered.

Natalie hugged him good-bye and kissed his cheek. "Have fun, boys."

"I promise I'll have him back in one piece," Leland said, all but dragging Adrian out the door. "Eventually."

Natalie giggled at the imploring look Adrian shot her, and waved at them as they drove away.

Leland insisted on blindfolding him and covering his ears with (freshly sanitized) ear protectors, the same type used at the police shooting range. Adrian's protests were useless. "If I don't, you're going to figure out where we're going in under five minutes, and then it won't be a surprise," Leland said firmly.

They drove for what seemed like hours to Adrian, but was in reality only about half an hour. When they stopped, Leland took Adrian's hand to carefully lead him somewhere. After a few minutes, he could tell they were inside a building — he could feel carpet beneath his feet, and, oh God, he could smell beer, and popcorn, and other concession-style food. _Please don't let it be a strip club_ , he thought desperately. _Or a karaoke bar._ Either prospect was an absolute nightmare to even contemplate.

A few minutes later, Leland removed the ear protectors, and Adrian ripped off the blindfold in relief. A burst of applause and whooping, combined with the sudden influx of light, disoriented him for a few moments. As he blinked rapidly, the room gradually came into focus.

He was first aware of the people. Randy, Dr. Bell, and a few of the detectives he knew best from Stottlemeyer's squad were crowded at the bar.

He was pleased to see Joe Christie, whom he hadn't seen in years. Joe had transferred to another precinct shortly after his reinstatement, but they'd exchanged the occasional card and phone call. He'd been one of the few people Adrian had told about the resolution of Trudy's case immediately after it'd happened. Most recently, Joe had called him with congratulations after seeing the article about his engagement in the _Dispatch_ , and again for moral support in the days following Natalie's accident.

Bobby Davenport was here, whom he'd expected, but so was Jonathan Davenport, whom he hadn't expected. Also present were his father and, to his shocked surprise, Ambrose.

Once his eyes had adjusted he glanced around the room, taking in his surroundings. A plush room with couches, tables, a private bar, and… and two _bowling lanes_?

"Bowling?" he said incredulously.

"Bowling!" Leland said, grinning hugely. "This is a private suite, so we have it all to ourselves for the evening."

Adrian smiled tentatively, although he felt trepidation. He hadn't bowled in years, not since he'd gone undercover at Warren Kemp's firm. And if Leland expected him to rent a pair of bowling shoes, he was sorely mistaken. Perhaps his OCD wasn't as bad as it had been, but he still drew a hard and fast line at sharing shoes with other people.

Leland seemed to know exactly what he was thinking. "Not to worry," he said. "I have a pair of brand-new, never-been-worn bowling shoes for you. And I made sure you'd have a ten-pound ball." He slapped Adrian's shoulder. "C'mon, let's go have some fun."

To his great astonishment, it _was_ fun. His bowling skills were rusty at first, but he soon warmed up, and awed the crowd by bowling nearly perfect games. Amazingly enough, his father's skill was nearly equal to his own, and Ambrose didn't do too badly considering it was his first time at a bowling alley. In fact, Ambrose not only did a creditable job bowling, he actually seemed to be having a good time, despite the fact that he was in a unfamiliar locale surrounded by mostly strangers. Adrian never would have believed it if he hadn't been there.

After bowling two straight games, he had to sit down and catch his breath. There was food, and an open bar, but he eschewed both in favor of a bottle of water. Of course, Leland had made sure the suite was stocked with his favorite brand.

"That was some performance, Adrian," Jonathan Davenport said, plopping down in the chair across from his. "How long have you been bowling?"

Adrian chuckled. "I've only been bowling once before in my life, and that was several years ago," he confessed. "I seem to have a knack for it."

"I'll say," Jonathan agreed. He had a gin and tonic in his hand, and he took a long sip. "How's Natalie doing?"

"She's well," Adrian said. "I assume she doesn't know you're in town?"

Jonathan shook his head. "Actually, that's what I came to talk to you about. I was hoping we could meet for brunch tomorrow so I could surprise her. Mom and Dad want to come too, of course, and they've already invited Julie – she doesn't know I'm here yet, either. What do you say?"

"Sounds great." Adrian smiled, already looking forward to both Natalie and Julie's reactions. "Did you have someplace in mind?"

"Do you know Ella's, on Presidio?"

"Sure." It was a restaurant not far from his old apartment.

"We could meet there around eleven, if that works for you."

"Absolutely. We'll be there." Adrian filed it away in his mental calendar. "Do you fly back to Seattle tomorrow?"

"Actually, I'm staying in town until after the wedding," Jonathan said. "I felt bad that I had to miss the medal ceremony, so I figured I'd come out early and spend some quality time with my big sister and my favorite niece before the big day." He grinned. "And get to know my new brother-in-law better."

Adrian grinned too. "I'd like that." A brother-in-law was something he'd never had before, given that he had no sisters and Trudy had been an only child, so it was a new experience for him. He liked Jonathan, very much, and was tremendously grateful they'd managed to expose Theresa Scott/Darlene Coolidge/Phyllis Gaffney before she could execute her heinous plot.

Jonathan finished off his drink. "Well, I'm going to go get another one of these, and then I think I'll give my dad a run for his money on the lanes. I'll talk to you later."

A moment later, Joe Christie dropped into the seat that Jonathan had vacated. "Well, how the hell are you, stranger?"

"Joe!" Delighted, Adrian reached over to shake his hand. "Thanks for coming. It's great to see you."

"Likewise." Joe looked him up and down. "I gotta say, Monk, you look _really_ great."

Adrian flushed, but smiled. "I feel really great these days."

"I can tell." Joe sipped from a bottle of beer. "I have to admit, I was worried about you when I heard Sharona had left, but it looks like it all worked out for the best. I can't wait to meet Natalie."

"She's looking forward to meeting you, too. She really liked the card you sent a few weeks ago."

Joe shrugged modestly. "Least I could do. How's she feeling?"

"Back to normal, for the most part."

"I'm glad to hear it." Joe shook his head. "That was a hell of a thing. What happened to the guy who hit her?"

Adrian smiled grimly. "He pled guilty to everything. Second-degree murder, grand theft auto, and felony DUI, plus a few lesser charges."

Joe raised his eyebrows. "No plea deal?"

"No." Only Leland Stottlemeyer knew about the fifteen minutes that Adrian had spent with Jerry Horn a few days following Natalie's discharge from the hospital - fifteen minutes that had convinced Jerry Horn that jail was the safest place for him, compared to the wrath of Adrian Monk if he tried to pursue a lesser sentence. "The district attorney refused to offer one, and the evidence was so stacked against him that a trial would have been pointless. He's in prison for sixty years, eligible for parole in forty — if he lives that long." But chances were that Jerry Horn would never be a free man again.

"Well, good," Joe said emphatically. "The important thing is that he's off the streets and he can't hurt anyone else."

Adrian nodded his agreement.

"Yo, Adrian!" He twisted in his seat to find his father calling his name. "We need a fifth man! Get over here!"

He grinned at Joe. "Duty calls, I guess."

"We'll catch up later," Joe promised.


	32. Chapter 32

The party ended around midnight, and Leland drove him back home. "Wouldn't want you to turn into a pumpkin," he joked. "So, did you have fun?"

"I had fun," Adrian conceded. "It was really great, Leland. Thank you."

"I _told_ you that you'd thank me later," Leland grinned.

"Thanks for inviting Joe," Adrian added. "It was good talking to him again."

"Aw, don't mention it. I wanted to see him too," Leland said. "You know, Natalie invited him to your birthday party last year, but he couldn't make it — I think he had a court appearance he couldn't miss."

"Yeah, he told me," Adrian confirmed. "But I'm glad he was able to make it tonight, and he plans to be at the wedding, too."

"Him and all of my department," Stottlemeyer chuckled. "They're already making up schedules so they can take turns going without leaving the desk unmanned. I still can't believe you invited _all_ of them."

Adrian shrugged, smiling. "Natalie's idea. She said we should invite all of them so it wouldn't seem like we were playing favorites. And since we had such a generous budget, why not?"

Leland laughed. "Well, I can tell you that they're really excited about it."

"Me too." He was a little nervous, not about getting married, but more that something would go wrong with the ceremony or reception. So far, though, his anticipation overshadowed his anxiety. In less than two weeks, Natalie would be his _wife_. He felt like pinching himself in a daily basis to make sure he wasn't dreaming.

"How are the plans coming along?" Leland asked. "Is everything ready to go?"

"I think so," Adrian said thoughtfully. "Cassandra's taking care of most of the last-minute details — getting the final headcounts, confirming all the reservations, and so on. We're going to go get the license on Monday, and of course we need to go pick up the tuxes the following week, but otherwise I think we're set."

"T.K. has Natalie's wedding dress under lock and key," Leland told him. "She hasn't even let _me_ see it."

Adrian smiled at that, but it brought to mind something else he'd intended to talk to Leland about, because it'd been bothering him for a while. "Listen, Leland… you're okay with not being my best man, aren't you?"

"Aw, Monk, of course I am," Leland said. "Brothers take precedence with things like this."

Adrian gave a relieved sigh. "Thanks for understanding."

"Besides, I'm sort of a deputy best man anyway, considering that I threw your bachelor party and I'm the one giving the toast at the reception," Leland pointed out. "But I think it's great Ambrose is going to be the one standing up with you at the ceremony, especially since he missed your first wedding."

"Did you _see_ him tonight?" Adrian said, still amazed. "He was having a good time, even though he barely knew anyone there. I couldn't believe it."

"He's made some great progress," Leland agreed. "I think having your dad back as been good for him."

"Yes, it has," Adrian mused. "I wasn't too sure about that arrangement, especially if Dad decided to take off again, but it seems to be working well for both of them."

"He seems to be settling in for the long haul," Leland observed. An obviously excited Jack had shared the news that evening that he'd accepted a job with Davenport Industries and would start the Monday following the wedding.

"Maybe," Adrian said, but he was too jaded to get his hopes up where his father was concerned. "I guess we'll find out."

Leland pulled into the driveway. Adrian could see a light on in the living room; had Natalie left it on for him or was she still awake? "Thanks again," he told Leland as he got out of the car. "I had a really good time."

"My pleasure," Leland said with a grin.

Adrian jogged up the steps and let himself into the house. Natalie was indeed still awake, though dressed in pajamas, curled up in a blanket on the sofa and watching television. "Hey," Adrian said as he shut and locked the front door. "You didn't have to wait up for me."

"I wanted to," she said, turning off the TV. "I thought I should be around in case you were too traumatized from the festivities to function." She managed to keep her face somber, but her laughing eyes gave her away.

"Very funny," Adrian said, unable to keep from grinning. "Did you know what he had planned?"

She shook her head. "He wouldn't tell me a thing. So, what'd you do?"

He sank down on the couch beside her. "We went _bowling_."

"Bowling?" Natalie repeated with a smile. "That sounds like fun."

"It _was_ fun," Adrian said, still marveling over that fact. "He rented a private suite with two lanes, and he even had brand-new shoes for me to wear. I bowled six games." He flexed his arm, which admittedly was a little sore after the unaccustomed exertion.

"I bet you were impressive," Natalie said, remembering the last time she'd seen him bowl. He'd been truly amazing, especially considering it'd been his first time.

"Well, I don't know about that," he said modestly, "but my scores were pretty high. Ambrose did really well, too, for his first time."

"Ambrose was there?" Natalie asked, delighted.

"He was. And Joe Christie, too," Adrian said, smiling with pleasure. "It was great to catch up with him again."

"I _told_ you that you'd have fun," she said, lightly jabbing his chest with her finger.

"You were right," he admitted.

"My three favorite words," she said, smirking at him.

"Well, I have three more words for you," he said, leaning over until his mouth hovered teasingly above hers. "I love you."

"Those are my favorite, too," she murmured, just before he kissed her.

The kiss began playfully but quickly deepened in intensity. They'd deliberately kept their distance from one another over the last few weeks, in order to avoid increasingly irresistible temptation, but their tacit agreement abruptly flew out the window as their long-restrained passion ignited.

Natalie slipped her hands inside his jacket, running her hands lightly over his T-shirt. She really, _really_ liked the new outfit. Then her hands found their way underneath his T-shirt.

Adrian went rock hard at the glorious feeling of her fingers caressing the bare skin of his chest. He wanted her so badly that he couldn't stand it any longer. Suddenly he decided their wedding night was simply too far away. He pulled her onto his lap, and, in perfect accord, she moved to straddle him.

"Oh, yes, Nat," he groaned against her lips as she enthusiastically rubbed against him. His hands vised on her hips as his tongue mimicked the motion of her body.

She loved it when he called her 'Nat.' It was something he did only when they were being intimate. She didn't think he even realized he was saying it most of the time.

Kissing him all the while, her hands moved down to unbuckle his belt. As she did, he slid his hands under her pajama shirt to stroke the bare skin of her waist, and then wandered higher.

They were both so engrossed with one another that neither of them heard a car pulling into the drive, or a key turning in the lock.

When Julie opened the door, she took one step into the room and then gave a startled shriek. Adrian and Natalie abruptly pulled apart and scrambled to untangle themselves.

"Can't you put a damn sign on the door or something?" Julie protested, clapping a hand over her eyes. "I'm never going to be able to unsee that."

Natalie wanted to crawl under the couch and die of embarrassment. Adrian, equally mortified, hurriedly yanked Natalie's blanket over his lap to hide the obvious evidence of how much he'd been enjoying himself.

Julie warily removed her hand from her eyes. "There are rooms with much more privacy right upstairs, you know." Her face was solemn, but her mouth was twitching at the sight of their crimson faces. "They have doors that lock and everything."

"I wasn't expecting you home quite so soon," Natalie said in a small voice, her tone flustered.

"It's nearly one in the morning," Julie returned. "I said I'd be home around one, remember?"

Natalie flushed. She'd completely lost track of time after Adrian had kissed her, and she certainly hadn't intended for things to go as far as they – almost – had. Thank God they'd kept their clothes on, at least. She'd been working on undoing his pants button but hadn't quite managed it, and although he'd been slowly inching her shirt up, it'd still mostly covered her.

Julie sighed dramatically. "You're almost newlyweds, so I'll cut you some slack. But thank _God_ I won't be around during your honeymoon."

 _Amen to that_ , Adrian thought. He caught Natalie's eye and was sure she was thinking the same thing.

"Before I go pour bleach in my eyes," Julie said, "I wanted to remind you about brunch tomorrow. Did Grandpa talk to you about it, Adrian?"

He blinked at her, then suddenly remembered his conversation with Jonathan earlier – and the surprise that was planned. "Oh, right. Brunch." He turned to Natalie. "Eleven o'clock, at Ella's."

"With Mom and Dad?" Natalie asked.

He nodded, hoping she wouldn't ask if anyone else was going to be there, as he was a terrible liar and might give the surprise away. Thankfully, she didn't.

"See you in the morning," Julie said, heading for the stairway.

They listened to her jog up the stairs, and a moment later they heard her bedroom door closing with a firm *snap.*

"Oh my God," Natalie said, burying her face in her hands. "I'm never going to be able to look her in the face again."

Adrian blew out a slow breath. "Well, it could have been worse," he said philosophically. "For example, if she'd walked in about, oh, five minutes later – "

"I don't even want to think about it," Natalie said, shuddering slightly. She leaned back against the couch cushions. "Thirteen days."

"Technically twelve days, now, since it's after midnight," he pointed out, carefully and precisely folding the blanket in his lap and draping it neatly over the arm of the couch. "It feels like twelve _years_."

"I know," Natalie agreed. "But we've come this far, so we might as well see it through. Assuming we don't die in the attempt."

They exchanged rueful smiles.

Natalie heaved a sigh and pulled herself to her feet. "If we're having brunch with my parents tomorrow, I should get some sleep. Assuming I can calm down enough to sleep."

"Lock your door," he quipped. The phrase had become a standing joke between them in the last two months.

She grinned. "You too."


	33. Chapter 33

Natalie came downstairs the next morning looking cool and summery in a sky blue sundress and white, strappy sandals. She found Adrian already downstairs, dressed in more new clothes — this time a pair of sand-colored trousers and a matching blazer with a blue shirt underneath. His shirt was nearly the same color as her dress, and paired with a dark blue tie patterned with lighter blue dots.

Adrian's eyes lit up when he saw her. "You look great."

"So do you," she replied, eyeing him with approval. The light color of his suit contrasted nicely with his olive-toned skin, and the bold blue was an unexpected splash of color against the pale jacket.

Julie came down the stairs just then in a sleeveless white blouse, pastel floral-patterned skirt, and high-heeled wedge sandals. She took one look at Adrian and shook her head. "No, no, no," she said, going over to him. "Lose the tie. This is a _casual_ brunch."

"But — " Adrian began. Before he could say another word, she swiftly unknotted his tie, pulled it from his neck, and unbuttoned his top collar button. She also unbuttoned his blazer so that it fell open.

She adjusted his collar, then stepped back and eyed him critically. "Much better," she announced. "I'm going to put this away and then we can go." She went back upstairs, tie in hand.

Natalie couldn't hold back an amused grin. Adrian shrugged, and adjusted his collar again. "She's the boss," he said sheepishly.

"Maybe you should let her see your tux for the wedding," Natalie said, her eyes dancing. "You know, just in case it isn't up to her standards."

"She's already seen pictures," he admitted. "She says it's fine."

They both laughed as Julie came down the stairs again. She looked the two of them over. "Please tell me you didn't plan the matching outfits."

"We didn't plan the matching outfits," Natalie said. And it was true. She'd had no idea what he was going to wear today, and she doubted that he knew what dress she'd chosen, considering she hadn't decided herself until about an hour ago.

"Well, good, because deliberately dressing alike is a little _too_ lovey-dovey," Julie said, adjusting her purse over her shoulder. "Even for you guys."

She looked Adrian up and down again. "You should wear that suit to the rehearsal," she told him.

"With or without the tie?" Adrian asked.

Julie pursed her lips. "With the tie," she decided. "It's at the Four Seasons, after all."

"What about me?" Natalie said. Julie was the fashionista of the family; it wouldn't hurt to ask her opinion, since the subject had come up.

Julie eyed her critically. "What you have on today is perfect for brunch, but a little too informal for the rehearsal." She snapped her fingers. "I know. You should wear that blue cocktail dress from New Year's Eve. That'd be perfect."

"I really like that dress," Adrian agreed, a suggestive note in his voice that made Natalie flush.

Julie rolled her eyes. "Keep it clean, kids, we're going out in public. Now let's go before we're late."

* * *

When they arrived at Ella's, they were escorted to a table near the back. As they approached, Natalie suddenly squealed in delight. "Jonathan!"

"Hey, sis," he said with a grin, bouncing up from his seat. She flew into his outstretched arms and he hugged her tightly. "Long time no see."

"When did you get here?" Natalie exclaimed, pulling back. As she did, Julie, a happy smile on her face, moved in to hug her uncle.

"Yesterday. I flew in for Adrian's bachelor party," Jonathan said. He reached over Julie to shake Adrian's hand in greeting.

Natalie turned on her heel to look at her fiancé. "You _knew_ he was in town and you didn't say anything?"

Adrian couldn't help but grin at the joy on her face. "He wanted to surprise you," he said, delighted at the success of it.

She smiled at him, and then turned back to her brother. "Oh, I can't believe you're here!" she said, her eyes shining. "How long can you stay?"

"I'm here until after the wedding," Jonathan said, causing her to squeal again and throw her arms around him.

"Natalie, for heaven's sakes, sit down before you strangle the boy," Bobby said, but he was smiling at the two affectionately.

Natalie insisted that Jonathan sit between her and Julie, and she spent the meal peppering him with questions about Seattle, his job, and his social life.

"Enough about me," Jonathan finally said, wiping his mouth with his napkin and pushing his empty plate away. "How's the wedding stuff going? Do you need me to help with anything?"

"Oh, no, Cassandra has everything taken care of," Natalie said with an absent wave of her hand. "We just need to get the license tomorrow, and pick up the tuxes next week."

"Is that the same Cassandra who's a bridesmaid?" Jonathan asked. "The one I'm walking with?"

"The very same," Natalie confirmed. "She's so sweet. You'll love her."

Jonathan shot her a warning look. "You're not planning any matchmaking, are you?"

"Of course not," she insisted, but she deliberately avoided his gaze by drinking from her water glass.

Peggy saved the day by chiming in. "She's absolutely right, Jonathan; Cassandra is very sweet. And she's very good at her job. It's going to be a _beautiful_ wedding."

Jonathan raised his eyebrows. "High praise." He looked at Adrian. "You're sure she's not a homicidal maniac?" he asked wryly.

"Very sure," Adrian chuckled. With Natalie's blessing, he'd actually had Leland do a run on Cassandra shortly after they'd hired her. You couldn't be too careful, especially given his line of work. "No criminal record. And Randy had never seen her before in his life."

"That's a relief," Jonathan said with an exaggerated sigh that made everyone, including him, laugh. Natalie was glad to hear that her brother could now joke about his disastrous wedding experience. He'd refused to even talk about it for months, even years, after it had occurred. She couldn't really blame him, but on the other had she'd worried that it wasn't healthy for him to just pretend it hadn't happened. But he certainly looked happier, and more at ease, than he had the last time she'd seen him.

"So, what should we do today?" Julie asked.

"We're _not_ going bowling," Jonathan said, glancing at Adrian ruefully. "I really don't feel like getting my ass whipped by my future brother-in-law again." He rubbed his shoulder. "Plus my arm's so sore it feels like it's about to fall off."

Adrian grinned. "Same here."

"Mine too," added Bobby.

"Okay, no bowling," Natalie said, laughing. "It's a beautiful day. Why don't we go to the Botanical Garden? It's supposed to be really impressive this time of year."

"Oh, let's do that," Julie agreed. "I haven't been there in ages."

They spent a lovely afternoon walking in the Garden, enjoying the sunshine and fresh air. Natalie felt an incredible sense of peace as they loitered along the paths, taking in the views of the exotic flowers, shrubs, and trees as they chatted and laughed. Her _family_ — healthy and happy, enjoying a flawless afternoon in May. She sighed with contentment as she saw Adrian and Julie laughing about something together. How had she gotten so lucky? First Mitch, and now Adrian. Most people were fortunate if they fell in love once, yet she'd been blessed twice.

"Thinking deep thoughts?" Jonathan asked as he fell into step beside her.

She smiled at him. "Just counting my blessings."

"It's a perfect day for it," he said, taking a deep breath of the fragrant air. "I'm not used to this much sunshine anymore."

"Move here and you can enjoy it year-round," she hinted, poking him playfully.

He grinned. "Maybe someday. For now, I like Seattle." He stuck his hands in his pockets as they walked along. "You know, I have to admit, I was kind of weirded out when you told me you were going to marry Adrian."

"Were you?" she said lightly, her eyes twinkling. She could only imagine what had gone through his head, given how little he'd known about Adrian then.

He laughed, glad to see she understood and wasn't offended. "I only remembered him a little from my wedding fiasco, and what I did remember was… pretty strange. I mean, I was grateful to him for exposing Theresa, but otherwise he struck me as really odd."

He glanced behind them at where Adrian and Julie were walking together and chatting. "But he was really nice when he called and asked me to be a groomsman, and last night he seemed like an entirely different guy than I remembered. And seeing him with you today… it's pretty obvious that he really loves you."

"I really love him, too," she said softly.

"I can tell." Jonathan nudged her slightly with his shoulder. "I guess what I'm trying to say is… I'm really happy for you. You deserve it."

"Thank you," Natalie said, genuinely touched. "You do too, you know."

He shrugged, frowning slightly. "My luck's been pretty miserable in that regard."

"It's bound to turn around eventually," Natalie said positively. "It did for me."

"Ever the optimist, aren't you?" Jonathan said wryly. That had always been their sibling dynamic — Natalie had been the constant "glass half full" type, while he'd always taken a more pessimistic view of things.

"You know it." She took his arm as they strolled. "I'm glad you're here."

"So am I." He gave her a sideways glance. "I should have come when you were in the hospital."

She shook her head. "I was only in there for a week. You didn't need to disrupt your work and everything just to come see me."

"Yes, I did, and next time I'm not going to let you talk me out of it," Jonathan said firmly.

"I hope there isn't a next time," Natalie said fervently.

He winced. "Bad choice of words there, but you know what I mean. I felt terrible that I had to miss the medal ceremony on top of everything else."

"You were sick," Natalie said sympathetically. "We understood."

"Horrible timing, but what can you do?" Jonathan sighed. "At any rate, I intend to stay healthy for your wedding."

"You'd better," Natalie laughed. "I'm not sure if we could find another groomsman on such short notice."

"Why do we need another groomsman?" Adrian asked, catching her remark as he caught up with them.

"We don't," she told him. "Jonathan was just promising that he wouldn't get sick at the last minute like he did before the medal ceremony."

"That's a relief," Adrian said, linking his fingers with hers.

"C'mon, Uncle Jonathan," Julie said, grabbing his arm. "They're about to get sappy. Let's clear out of here."

"Oh no, not sappy," Jonathan said in mock horror. "Anything but that!"

"You have _no_ idea," Julie said, and giggled at the warning glance her mother shot her. "Let's go check out the gift shop."

"I guess I'll see you guys later," Jonathan told them as Julie dragged him away.

Natalie slipped an arm around Adrian's waist. " _Are_ we going to get sappy?" she asked teasingly.

"Sappy sounds good to me," he replied, grinning at her, and leaned down for a kiss.


	34. Chapter 34

The following weekend, it was time for Natalie's bachelorette party. Neither she nor Adrian had any idea what Julie and the other bridesmaids had planned, but contrary to Adrian's (happily unfounded) apprehension about his party, Natalie was very much looking forward to hers.

Natalie's party, however, wasn't just an evening — it was the entire weekend. Julie had informed her mother that she needed to pack for three days, as they'd be leaving Friday afternoon and planned to return early Monday afternoon (which happened to be Memorial Day). She'd also told Adrian that she was confiscating her mother's cell phone, so he shouldn't freak out if he didn't hear from her during the weekend.

Although he hadn't said anything to Natalie, Adrian was rather nervous about her being gone — and out of contact — so long. Other than her accident and hospital stay, they hadn't spent a night apart since Valentine's Day. Granted, they hadn't been sharing a bed for the past two months, but he'd still felt a measure of comfort knowing that she was just across the hall. What if something happened? What if there was another car accident on the way to or from the party?

He dutifully kissed Natalie goodbye on Friday, doing his best to hide his misgivings, but she seemed to sense how nervous he was.

"I'll be home before you know it," she said as she hugged him tightly. "I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you, too," Adrian said, and he looked so sad that, for the first time, Natalie had second thoughts about going. However, the prospect of facing her daughter's wrath if she backed out, not to mention her mother's, steeled her resolve.

She reached up to hug him again and whispered in his ear, "In eight days we leave for our honeymoon. You'll have me all to yourself for a whole week."

He grinned at that, and whispered back, "I'm really looking forward to it."

"Me too," she said, and they smiled at one another.

A horn honked from outside, and she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Gotta go. I love you. See you Monday!" and dashed out to the waiting car.

He waved as they drove away, and the house seemed enormously lonely when he went back inside. He slept fitfully on Friday night, and woke up on Saturday depressed at the prospect of a long weekend without Natalie.

Dr. Bell had encouraged him to make plans to keep himself busy while she was gone, so he'd decided to spend time over at Ambrose's house. He thought they could go over the ceremony — a rehearsal of the rehearsal, more or less — before the actual rehearsal on Thursday and the ceremony on Friday.

He also had a few wedding-related errands to run, ones that he didn't want Natalie or Julie to get wind of before the big day. Once those were completed, he drove over to Ambrose's house, noting with interest the red Toyota sedan parked in the driveway. He guessed it must be the used vehicle his father had talked of buying, as the tags and license plate were both brand-new even though the car itself was about seven years old.

When he knocked on the door, Ambrose answered immediately. "Good morning, Adrian," Ambrose said cheerfully, moving aside so he could enter the house.

"Hello, Ambrose," Adrian said, stepping into the house. "I thought we could — " But words suddenly failed him.

The house… was _clean_. Gone were the file cabinets full of mail, the banker's boxes full of papers, the stacks of newspapers and magazines that Ambrose had hoarded for so long. Adrian took another tentative step inside, unable to believe what he was seeing. He hadn't seen the room look like this for nearly forty years. He could actually _see_ the hardwood floor, gleaming with polish. He could see the wallpaper — old and faded now, but still with the orange and brown stripes he remembered from his youth.

Ambrose quietly shut the door behind him. Adrian turned to him, and opened his mouth to speak, but he found he didn't quite know what to say.

"Hi there, Adrian," his father said, coming down the stairs. "I thought I heard the door." He must have guessed what had prompted Adrian's dazed expression, for he smiled broadly and swept his arm to indicate the room. "Quite a change, isn't it?"

"It's… astounding," Adrian finally managed.

Jack Monk smiled in satisfaction. "Ambrose and I have been working hard the last month or two," he said jovially. "We've probably gone to the recycling center a hundred times."

"Ninety-seven times," Ambrose corrected, beaming with pride.

"We finally got the last of it out a few days ago," Jack continued. "You should see the study. We've turned it into an office for Ambrose."

"You… you cleaned out the study, too?" Adrian said, feeling as though he might pass out.

Jack shrugged. "He really needed a better place to work than that cramped desk in the dining room."

"Wait until Natalie sees this," Adrian breathed, turning in a slow circle. "She won't believe it."

"She didn't come with you, did she?" Ambrose asked, glancing at the door.

"No, she's out of town until Monday," Adrian explained, feeling a pang of loneliness as he remembered it himself. "Bachelorette party weekend… thing… with her bridesmaids."

"You mean you're staying in that big house, all by yourself?" Jack exclaimed. "Why don't you stay here instead?"

"Stay… here?" Adrian repeated.

"We have plenty of room," Ambrose said with a crooked smile.

"We could have a — a father-son weekend," Jack offered. "We can keep you company while Natalie's gone. What do you say?"

"I — I guess so," Adrian said, unable to think of a good reason to refuse. And truth be told, he didn't like staying at the house without Natalie. He'd appreciate some companionship, and maybe staying elsewhere would help him bear the loneliness a bit better. "I should go back home and pack — "

Jack waved that suggestion away. "You and Ambrose are about the same size, aren't you? You can just borrow some of his things for the weekend. That way you don't have to make the trip back, since you're already here."

Adrian and Ambrose exchanged a startled glance. They'd never "borrowed" one another's clothes before. Their mother had absolutely forbidden it for some reason of her own, even though, as they grew into young men, they had been more or less the same size.

But as he thought about it, Adrian realized it was a brilliantly simple solution. Ambrose's clothes would be as clean and tidy as his own. If nothing else, he could simply borrow a pair of pajamas and wash the clothes he was wearing tonight for use tomorrow as well. He knew, also, that Ambrose would have extra, unused toiletries nearly identical to his own.

"Ambrose?" he asked hesitantly, feeling he should make sure his brother was okay with the plan before agreeing to anything.

Ambrose looked petrified for the merest instant, but then, with a glance at his father, he relaxed. "Of course," he said. "You're welcome to anything I have."

"All right, then," Adrian said, a bit awkwardly. "I'll do that."

"Perfect!" Jack beamed. "This is going to be great."

Adrian was less sure of that, but he thought it would be better than spending the weekend rattling around in a big house by himself.

* * *

They did go over the plans for the wedding ceremony, practicing several times so Ambrose would feel comfortable. They even went over to the Four Seasons itself later in the afternoon so Ambrose could get familiar with the ceremony location. Several staff members — most of whom knew Adrian now, thanks to his and Natalie's frequent visits there to meet with Cassandra — were busy setting up for a wedding scheduled to take place that evening, so it even looked fairly similar to the setup they'd have on Friday. They graciously allowed Adrian to show Ambrose and his father around the terrace, as well as the ballroom where the reception and dance would be held.

"This is an impressive place," Ambrose said, admiring the chandeliers in the ballroom. "What made you decide to hold the wedding here?"

"Natalie and I had our first kiss here," Adrian said, blushing slightly, but smiling at the memory. "Or rather, out there," he said, pointing toward the terrace.

Jack chuckled. "Well, that explains it." He gazed at the chandeliers too. "I guess the detective business must pay pretty well if you can afford a fancy place like this."

"Natalie's father gave her money for the wedding," Adrian explained. "He was very generous."

Jack whistled softly. "I'll bet."

"Did he pay for her first wedding, too?" Ambrose asked.

Adrian shook his head. "She didn't have a wedding the first time around — they eloped."

"Well, she's certainly making up for it this time," Jack said, watching as the Four Seasons staff hung elaborate flower arrangements on the terrace pillars. He turned to Adrian suddenly. "Where did you and Trudy get married?"

"The Golden Gate Club, at Presidio National Park," Adrian answered. "We had the ceremony and the reception there."

"It sounds really nice," Jack said, a touch of wistfulness in his tone.

"It was," Adrian agreed, smiling. "Trudy and her mother did a wonderful job with the plans."

"If you want to see what it was like, we could watch his wedding video," Ambrose suggested. "I still have my copy."

"Really?" Jack turned to Adrian, hope in his eyes. "What do you think?"

"Sure, if you want to," Adrian shrugged. He'd memorized the entire video long ago, but watched it every year on his wedding anniversary — his _old_ wedding anniversary — regardless.

He wondered briefly if he'd continue that tradition even after he and Natalie were married. Probably, he mused. She would likely insist on it, and they'd no doubt watch their own wedding video — or rather, wedding DVD — every year on _their_ anniversary, too. He grinned at the thought.

After they returned to Ambrose's house, they had a light supper — pasta primavera, their father's favorite — and then they did just as Ambrose had suggested. His father was keenly absorbed, leaning close to the television as though he longed to step through the screen and join the guests at the ceremony. Adrian watched with a half-smile, pleasant memories from the day washing over him. It was a nice change from the bitter sobbing that usually accompanied his viewings.

As he watched Trudy say her vows, he daydreamed about what Natalie's wedding dress would look like. Nothing like Trudy's, certainly — even he could tell that the puffed sleeves and high neck of her dress were rather dated by today's standards. Natalie had refused, of course, to tell him a single detail about it. He wouldn't see it — wouldn't see _her_ — until the moment she walked down the aisle to him.

 _Six days_ , he thought, yearning for the time to pass faster, even as he watched a twenty-years-younger Adrian Monk kiss his bride and turn, beaming, toward the assembled guests.

"Where's your mother?" Jack Monk asked abruptly, staring at the TV screen with a frown. "I don't see her anywhere."

Adrian and Ambrose exchanged a startled glance. "Mother… wasn't there," Adrian said slowly. "She was too sick to go."

"I thought she didn't pass away until 1994," Jack said, his brows furrowing.

Adrian was surprised he knew even that much. "Dad, she was sick for nearly twenty years before that," he said.

"What?" Jack said, blanching. "What are you talking about?"

Ambrose paused the tape. "She was diagnosed with non-Hodgkin lymphoma in 1977," he said quietly. "She was in remission twice, but the cancer always came back."

Jack looked at them, horror-stricken. "I knew she died of cancer, but I had no idea she was sick for so long."

"Why would you?" Adrian said curtly, feeling a wave of anger sweep over him. "You weren't there."

"Adrian," Ambrose said, frowning. He gave his brother a chiding look.

Adrian knew he should let it go. He shouldn't spoil the weekend by dredging up the past and raking his father over the coals. But he couldn't — especially not now that dormant memories of his mother's long, painful, lingering illness had been hurled to the front of his mind.

"You weren't there," he repeated, each word a sharp slash of icy fury. "She fell apart after you left. Ambrose and I had to take care of things for years — cooking, cleaning, paying bills, everything. Then we had to take care of her after she was diagnosed with lymphoma. Ambrose was practically her slave for _seventeen years_."

"I didn't — " Ambrose tried.

" _Don't_ say you didn't mind," Adrian demanded, and Ambrose recoiled at his brother's savage tone. "That burden should never have fallen to us. To you." He turned accusing eyes to Jack Monk. "Marriage is making a promise to be there for your family _no matter what_. It was his job, and he failed her. He failed all of us."

Jack's shoulders were slumped in defeat, and his eyes were haunted with misery as they met Adrian's. "I was a terrible husband to your mother. And a terrible father to you boys."

"Is that supposed to make us feel better?" Adrian asked harshly.

Jack shrugged helplessly. "I can't change what I did back then. All I can do, right now, is apologize."

"I don't care," Adrian fired back. "You can't just — "

"That's enough!" Ambrose shouted.

Both Jack and Adrian turned to him, shocked. Ambrose _never_ shouted.

"Dad is right," Ambrose said heatedly, glaring at his brother. "We can't go back and change the past. We can only go forward in the present. What's the point of staying angry with him?"

"Maybe you can forgive him that easily," Adrian said, fury pushing him to his feet, "but I can't." He walked swiftly to the door, yanked it open, and strode outside, letting the door slam behind him. It wasn't until he'd gotten to his car that he realized he'd left his keys, wallet, and his cell phone inside the house.

Still fuming, he turned on his heel and started walking down the block. He didn't have a clear idea of where he was going to go or what he was going to do — he just needed to put some distance between himself and that house.

After a long bout of furious walking, his rage began to dwindle, and slowly the loneliness and regret took over. He began longing for Natalie — her touch, her scent, her sympathetic smile. _She_ would understand how he felt. _She_ would understand why he couldn't forgive what his father had done.

Or would she?

Adrian stopped dead in his tracks, suddenly remembering what Natalie had told him, months ago, after he'd asked her how she could possibly be willing to help Wally Dougal, given the man had killed her husband. "Holding on to hate won't bring Mitch back," she'd said, "but cooperating with Dougal might at least get him justice. I'd rather have justice than revenge."

At the time, her attitude had puzzled him, but he thought he finally understood it, now. Ambrose had said more or less the same thing, he realized. He could try to punish his father by holding on to anger for the rest of their lives, but it wouldn't change the circumstances of his childhood, or his mother's long, painful illness and death.

He didn't want to start his second chance at a new life with Natalie by holding on to bitterness about the past, and letting it fester like an infected wound — especially not after his desire for petty revenge against a deceased Dale the Whale had almost caused him to lose her.

He wanted to start fresh, with a clean slate, unencumbered by resentment against anyone… his father included. He was so tired of carrying the burden of animosity. It was time to set it down.

Deciding, he turned around and began trudging towards his childhood home. The light was starting to fade and the streetlights switched on as he walked. He'd gone farther than he'd realized; by the time Ambrose's house came into view, it was full dark, and he was exhausted.

He reached for the door, it suddenly swung open, and he jolted in surprise. His father was standing in front of the door, car keys in one hand, the other hand on the door. Jack Monk jerked backwards, but after a few seconds, the surprise in his eyes was replaced by relief. "Adrian, thank God," he said, backing away to give Adrian room to enter the house. "I was just going out to look for you."

As the door swung shut behind him, Adrian was suddenly struck with a simple truth: his father loved him. Maybe Jack Monk been too weak and selfish to stay with his family so many years ago, and maybe he'd stopped loving his wife, but despite that he'd never stopped loving his sons. That's why he'd come back. That's why he was trying to make amends.

He didn't know how he knew this, but he knew it all the same — just as he knew when a perpetrator was guilty even if all the available evidence indicated otherwise.

"Dad," Adrian said, "I'm sorry." To his own bewilderment, he began to cry.

After a moment, strong arms enfolded him in a tight hug. "It's okay, son," Jack Monk whispered gruffly, patting his back. "It's okay."

Adrian could not remember ever being hugged by his father before. Not once in his entire childhood. He put his hands on the older man's back, tentatively returning the hug, and cried harder.

When he was finally able to get his tears under control, and release his father from the heartfelt, if slightly awkward, embrace, Ambrose was there. Silently, he handed Adrian a clean handkerchief.

"Thank you," Adrian said, wiping his eyes. "Ambrose, I'm sorry I yelled at you."

Ambrose shrugged, his eyes watery. "I'm just glad you're okay. We were getting worried."

Jack patted Adrian's arm, looking suspiciously misty-eyed himself. "I'll tell you what we'll do," he said, infusing cheeriness into a voice tight with emotion. "Let's make a big batch of cinnamon popcorn and finish watching that wedding video. What do you say?"

"That sounds good," Adrian said with a tired smile.


	35. Chapter 35

The next day, Leland called him mid-morning, having promised Natalie he'd call to check in on Adrian at least once. "How're you holding up?" he asked.

"Pretty well, actually," Adrian said. "I'm staying with Ambrose and my father for the weekend."

"You are?" Leland couldn't hide his surprise. "I didn't know you'd planned to stay there."

"I hadn't, originally. But I came over on Saturday morning go over the ceremony with Ambrose, and when my father found out Natalie was gone until Monday, he invited me to stay."

"Oh." To Adrian's surprise, Leland actually sounded a little envious. "That's good that you'll get to spend some time with them before the wedding."

"How are you?" Adrian asked. He thought Leland had to be feeling a little lonely, too. To his knowledge, this was the first time that he and T.K. had been apart overnight since their marriage, other than the times Leland had to pull an all-nighter after catching a case. But even then he made an effort to stop by their house at some point, even if just for a few minutes, to say hello.

Leland sighed. "I'm okay, I guess. I went boating yesterday, and I thought about going again today, but I just don't have the heart for it."

"Why don't you come over here?" Adrian asked suddenly. "We could… hang out."

There were a few seconds of shocked silence on the other end of the phone. "You want to hang out?"

"Sure," Adrian said, warming to the idea. "We could call Randy and Bobby, see if they want to join us, since Sharona and Peggy are gone. Maybe Jonathan, too, if he doesn't have other plans."

"Well — I — " Leland let out a baffled laugh. "Why not? You call Bobby, I'll call Randy."

Accordingly, Adrian called Bobby, who sounded delighted by the invitation, and said he'd bring Jonathan as well — apparently he'd been hunched over his laptop the entire morning, and Bobby thought he could stand to get away from work for a while.

It wasn't until he'd already hung up with Bobby that Adrian realized he probably should have first asked Ambrose and his father if they could having people over before issuing the invitations. He didn't know if they already had something in mind for the day, or if they even wanted to spend time with his friends.

But when he hesitantly told his father about the plans he'd made, Jack was enthusiastic. "I'm going to run to the store," he announced, grabbing his car keys. "This is the perfect opportunity to fire up that old charcoal grill in the backyard, and grill some burgers."

"You really don't have to — " Adrian began.

"I _want_ to," Jack said, already halfway out the door.

Ambrose snapped his fingers, suddenly inspired. "I have some peaches that are ripe. I'm going make a cobbler," he announced, and disappeared into the kitchen.

His father returned thirty minutes later, laden with a big bag of charcoal, hamburger fixings, bags of potato chips, and sodas. By the time Randy, Bobby, Jonathan, and Leland arrived, the latter bearing a case of beer, Jack had the grill nearly hot enough for cooking. The distinctive smell of burning charcoal wafted all the way to the front of the house.

"All right, grilling party!" Randy said, obviously enthused, as Adrian opened the door to greet them and usher them inside.

Leland stared in disbelief at the clean, tidy foyer and living area. "Holy shit," he blurted, then reddened in embarrassment. "Uh… sorry."

Ambrose, who'd come out of the kitchen to greet the visitors, grinned. "Dad and I made ninety-seven trips to the recycling center," he informed Leland.

"I can see that," Leland said, raising his eyebrows at Adrian.

"Quite the transformation, isn't it?" Adrian commented as he closed the door behind them.

"It's like we're at the wrong house," Randy said, his eyes wide as he took in the changes. "Have Natalie and Julie seen this place yet?"

Adrian shook his head. "I just saw it myself for the first time yesterday." Noticing Bobby and Jonathan's confused expressions, he explained, "There used to be a lot of… stuff… in here."

"That's an understatement," Leland muttered. He hefted the beer. "Where do you want me to put this?"

Before Adrian could answer, Jack came in from outside. "You can put them in the cooler on the patio. I've put ice and some sodas in there already."

"Sounds great." Leland smiled appreciatively as he headed out to the backyard.

"Burgers are on the grill," Jack said cheerfully. "Why don't you all come out back and sit down?"

* * *

To Adrian's surprise, the rest of the afternoon flew by. It was by far the most enjoyable day he'd ever spent at his childhood home. In fact, the small gathering was like a lower-key version of his bachelor party, sans bowling.

The food was wonderful – his father had outdone himself with the hamburgers, and Ambrose's peach cobbler was delicious. Both Adrian and Ambrose eschewed the alcohol, but the other men, including Jack, indulged. They spent a pleasant afternoon relaxing on the back patio and talking – about the wedding, the SFPD, Davenport Toothpaste, Ambrose's technical manuals, sports, and a dozen other topics.

Leland and Randy spent a considerable amount of time regaling Jack, Ambrose, Jonathan, and Bobby with stories about the more memorable cases they'd worked with Adrian and Natalie, including a long, detailed version of the events immediately before and after they'd met Natalie for the first time.

"Natalie stabbed a guy to death in her living room?" Jack asked, his mouth agape.

"He was trying to strangle her at the time," Leland said mildly. "She didn't mean to kill him; she was just defending herself."

"She never told us about any of that," Bobby said, exchanging a frown with Jonathan. "Come to think of it, she never really told us exactly _how_ you two met, just that she'd started working for you."

"She probably didn't want to worry you," Adrian said, suppressing a sigh, although he suspected that her long estrangement with her parents had more to do with it. Like him, Natalie simply wasn't accustomed to updating her family with details about her life, even major ones.

"So why'd you offer her the job?" Jonathan asked.

Adrian mulled this question over for a long minute. "I admired her pluck," he said finally. "And her resilience." Remembering their encounter with the "corpuscle" at the science museum, he grinned. "And even her sass."

The assorted men laughed. "She has that in spades," Bobby chuckled.

"Bet you never thought that you'd end up marrying her," Randy teased.

"Not at all," Adrian agreed, then shot Randy a meaningful look. "Sort of like how I never thought _you'd_ end up with Sharona."

Randy flushed. "Tell me about it," he mumbled, but he was smiling.

"Are you and Sharona planning on getting married?" Ambrose asked him.

"Not anytime soon," Randy answered, his smile fading. He looked distinctly uncomfortable. "I mean, _I_ want to, but she…" He hesitated, then continued, "She had a really bad experience with her ex-husband, both times they were married, and I think it's left her a little… gun-shy, I guess… where marriage is concerned."

"Boy, do I know how _that_ feels," Jonathan remarked sympathetically.

Adrian remembered Trevor Howe, Sharona's ex-husband (times two). He'd never liked him. Sharona hadn't spoken much about her (first) marriage, but he'd heard enough negative stories that he'd been very skeptical of the alleged transformation that had prompted Sharona to move to New Jersey and remarry him. At the time, he'd expressed his concerns, but Sharona had brushed them aside. He was actually sorry that he'd been right about Trevor, because it meant Sharona, and probably Benjy, had been hurt again. At least she had Randy now.

"Maybe seeing Adrian and Natalie's wedding will help change her mind," Jack suggested.

Randy grinned. "Maybe. I know she's had fun helping Natalie with the planning."

"So has T.K.," Leland said. "I think she's had even more fun than she did when she was planning _our_ wedding."

"Natalie was in your wedding, wasn't she?" Ambrose said to Leland. "She showed me pictures."

"Yeah, she was the maid of honor," Leland confirmed. "We're lucky she agreed to step in at the last minute after our first one got arrested for murder."

Bobby choked slightly on the beer he'd just sipped. "Now _that_ sounds like an interesting story."

Leland told the tale of his nearly-aborted wedding, and how both Monk and Natalie had saved the day – Monk by solving the case, and Natalie by talking T.K. into marrying Leland despite her fears about his job.

When he was finished, Jonathan goggled at him. "So Adrian caught a murderer at _my_ wedding, and he caught a murderer at _Leland's_ wedding…" He turned to look at his future brother-in-law with a speculative expression. "Are you going to catch a murderer at _your_ wedding, too?"

"I hope not," Adrian said, shuddering slightly. "I want murder of any kind to stay _very_ far away from my wedding."

"Well, considering you'll have my entire homicide division in attendance, I don't think you have to worry," Leland said with a wink. "We'll deal with catching any murderers who show up. You just need to concentrate on getting married."

"Sounds good to me," Adrian said, toasting him with his bottle of water.

"What about the honeymoon?" Jonathan said, grinning. "You're not going to Alcatraz or anything, are you?"

They all laughed. "No," Adrian said with a smile.

The men waited for him to say more, but he didn't. "Well?" Jack finally asked, his eyebrows raised. "Where are you going?"

Adrian shook his head. "That's confidential."

"Oh, come on," Leland protested. "You can tell us."

"I've put my foot down on this one, Leland," Adrian said, with a stubborn expression that his friends recognized all too well. "We want _privacy_ , and the only way to get it is if Natalie and I are the only people who know where we're going."

"You're not even telling Julie?" Leland pressed, skeptical.

"No," Adrian said firmly. "We can be reached by cell phone if there's an emergency, but even _she_ won't know where we are. All she knows is that we're leaving on Saturday, after the brunch, and we'll be home the following Saturday."

"It's not like any of us would crash your honeymoon," Randy put in, laughing at the very idea.

"We're not taking any chances." Adrian gave both Leland and Randy a pointed look. "And any murder investigations are going to have to wait until we come back. I don't care if the mayor himself asks for me."

"What about the governor? Or the President?" Leland asked, deadpan.

"You can call me if either of them ask, but even then I won't make any promises," Adrian said.

"I could search your financials and see if you've paid a deposit anywhere lately," Randy mused with a teasing glint in his eye.

"You'd need a warrant first," Adrian returned.

"Okay, okay," Leland relented, laughing. "Keep your secret. But I hope we'll at least see pictures once you get back."

Adrian grinned at that. "I think we'll have better things to do than sightsee."

"Whoa, way too much information there, dude," Jonathan said, pretending to cover his ears as Leland and the others roared with laughter. "That's my _sister_ you're talking about."

"I'm _marrying_ your sister," Adrian said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "What do you think we're going to do on our honeymoon, play Monopoly?"

"I don't want to think about it," Jonathan protested, but he was laughing, too.

The conversation drifted to other topics, but Adrian only vaguely participated in the conversation from then on. He was too distracted. All of the talk about their honeymoon made him yearn for Natalie more than ever, and he couldn't help but daydream about what their honeymoon would be like. A quiet, private, secluded cottage. No crime scenes to go to, no teenagers lurking about, no distractions. Just the two of them, husband and wife, entirely and gloriously alone for an entire week.

 _Six days to go_ , he thought wistfully.

"Monk," a voice said loudly.

"Hmm?" Adrian said, coming back to earth with a jolt.

Leland gave him a knowing grin. "I said, we're going now."

"Oh!" Adrian rose to see them out.


	36. Chapter 36

Adrian's cell phone rang at eleven o'clock Monday morning. His heart leaped when he saw Natalie's name on the display, and he answered eagerly. "Hello?"

"Hi," Natalie said. "I'm at home and you're not."

"You're home _now_?" he said, getting to his feet reflexively. "I thought you wouldn't get back until later this afternoon." He'd been planning to leave Ambrose's house right after lunch.

"We decided to leave a little earlier than originally planned. We just got here about half an hour ago. Where are you?"

"I'm at Ambrose's."

"Oh," she said, relief in her voice. "I thought maybe you'd caught a case."

"No, it's been pretty quiet on that front, thank goodness." Suddenly inspired, he asked, "Is everyone else there, too? Sharona and Peggy and everyone?"

"No, it's just me and Julie, now. Everyone else has gone home."

"I know you just got back, but do you think you and Julie could come over here, just for a little while? There's something both of you should really see."

"Sure, I guess." She sounded puzzled, but agreeable. "We'll be there in about twenty minutes."

After their conversation, he was too excited to sit down, so he joined Ambrose in a last-minute tailspin of cleaning while Jack escaped upstairs to shave and change clothes.

The minute Adrian saw Julie's car pull up to the curb, he hung up the broom and dashed outside without even stopping to wash his hands first.

Natalie emerged from the car and all but jumped into his waiting arms. They hugged fiercely, each savoring the other's warmth and scent and touch. "I really missed you," he whispered into her ear.

"I missed you too," she said, resting her cheek against his shoulder. "That's why we came back so soon – I was missing you, and Sharona was missing Randy, and T.K. was missing Leland. So we decided to get an early start back home."

"I'm glad you did," he said, easing her back so he could look at her. His eyes widened, and he let out a long, appreciative whistle. "Wow, look at you."

She was dazzling. Her skin was fresh and dewy, and, from the feel of it, satin-smooth. Her hair seemed brighter, somehow, and tumbled healthily around a rosy face and glowing eyes.

"We went to a spa, one about an hour north of here, in Napa," she told him. "I've been buffed and wrapped and polished and massaged, and I can't even remember what else. It was two straight days of solid pampering."

"And you left all that for me?" he said, grinning like an idiot.

Her smile was slow and flirtatious. "Like I said, I missed you."

He would have kissed her, then and there in full view of the neighborhood, if not for Julie's impatient cough.

"So, what is it that we really have to see?" Julie asked. She looked just as radiant as her mother did, although the effect was somewhat spoiled by the annoyed expression on her face.

"Oh. Right," he said, remembering why he'd asked them over in the first place. "Come inside."

He showed them in, and Natalie's reaction was just as he'd imagined. Julie, too, forgot her annoyance in her amazement.

" _Look_ at this place!" Natalie said in disbelief. "It's incredible!"

"It's like an actual house now," Julie agreed, wide-eyed. "Maybe the décor could use a little updating, but it's _nice_."

Ambrose and Jack hurried downstairs just then – Ambrose had spilled Windex on his shirt, necessitating a quick change of clothes – and broke into nearly identical smiles at the sight of the two women.

"Ambrose!" Natalie all but squealed, and threw her arms around him. She then shocked him senseless by kissing his cheek with a loud, hearty *smack*. "I am _so proud_ of you! This place looks _great_!"

Embarrassed, yet highly gratified by her embrace, Ambrose flushed deep crimson and stammered, "Dad helped."

To Jack Monk's utter astonishment, he received the same effusive treatment from his soon-to-be daughter-in-law. He grinned, rather foolishly, and said, "I take it you approve?"

"It's _amazing_!" she said, fairly bouncing in excitement. "Have you cleaned out the whole house or just the main floor?"

"Oh, we've done the whole house," Jack said, glancing up the stairs. "Except the attic, but we'll get to that eventually. And we turned the study into an office for Ambrose."

Natalie stopped bouncing and her eyes grew huge. She exchanged a dumbfounded look with Julie. "You cleaned out the _study_?" she breathed. "Oh, this I have to see." She grabbed Ambrose's arm and started for the stairs.

They went over the whole house, but Natalie was most impressed with Ambrose's new office. The walls had been repainted a pale green. Ambrose's NSIMW award plaques had been relocated to this room, and they were neatly hung on the wall behind the polished oak desk, upon which his computer, scanner, and printer sat. She noted with pleasure that there were two framed photos on his desk – a recent one of her and Adrian, taken at the medal ceremony, and one of Adrian and Trudy from their wedding day.

The rickety wooden chair she remembered was gone, and a comfortable-looking burgundy leather executive office chair stood in its place. A wide oak bookshelf held copies of the manuals he'd written, as well as encyclopedias and dictionaries (in various languages), and other reference materials. A black upright tower fan, fairly new, stood in the corner. The windows were flanked by bold mulberry-colored curtains instead of the ugly, dusty beige ones that had hung there previously. It looked like a wonderful place to work.

"This is really nice," Julie declared. "If I didn't know any better, I'd swear it wasn't the same room."

"It turned out well," Jack agreed. "I wasn't too sure about the curtains at first, but Ambrose was right, they really class up the place."

"Forget instruction manual writing, Ambrose – maybe you should be an interior designer," Natalie joked.

Ambrose smiled bashfully. "One redecorated room does not an interior designer make," he said, but he looked enormously pleased.

Back downstairs, Ambrose insisted on making lunch after learning that Natalie and Julie hadn't eaten since their breakfast prior to hitting the road that morning, and Jack insisted on helping him. Adrian sat at the dining room table with Natalie and Julie as they told him all about their relaxing bachelorette weekend at the spa (which had been planned by Julie, but paid for by Peggy Davenport).

"It was an incredible weekend," Natalie said, linking fingers with Adrian under the table, "but I'm glad to be home." She squeezed his hand. "So, what were you up to while we were gone?"

"I stayed here most of the time," Adrian said.

Natalie was taken aback by this. "You spent the whole _weekend_ here? How did that happen?"

"I came over on Saturday morning to talk to Ambrose about the ceremony, and when Dad found out you'd be gone until Monday, he said I should stay here with them so I wouldn't be so lonely." He shrugged. "So I did, and… as it turned out, I _wasn't_ quite so lonely."

"That's great," Natalie said, beaming at him. "I'm really glad you had company."

"Yesterday, I invited all of the groomsmen over, plus your dad," Adrian continued cheerfully. "We grilled burgers."

"You did?" Natalie stared at him. He actually seemed happy about it. "Was it Leland's idea?" She'd asked the captain to check in on Adrian at least once, and she thought maybe he'd put the idea forward.

"No, it was mine," he said. "I got the idea while I was talking to Leland, though."

Natalie very nearly felt dizzy. He had initiated and engineered a social gathering of his own free will. She felt like she had stepped into an alternate universe, one where Ambrose Monk's house was clutter-free and Adrian Monk enjoyed socializing.

"Way to go, stepdad," Julie said with a grin. She nudged her mother. "See, I told you he'd be just fine by himself."

"You weren't _that_ worried about me, were you?" Adrian asked Natalie, slightly pleased that she'd cared so much, but a little irritated, too. He was a grown man, for heaven's sakes, and he'd survived just fine on his own when she had been in the hospital.

Before Natalie could answer, Julie broke in. "Oh lord, you should have heard her on the way up. _'I hope he's going to be okay_ ,'" she said in a high-pitched falsetto. "' _Maybe I should have found someone to stay with him while we're gone_.'"

"Shut up, Julie," Natalie muttered, flushing with embarrassment.

Julie opened her mouth to reply, but further conversation was prevented when Ambrose and Jack came in bearing a platter of sandwiches and a jug of fresh lemonade.

After lunch, Julie elected to drive home by herself so Adrian and Natalie could ride together in his car.

"Don't you need to get your suitcase?" Natalie asked, after they'd bid his father and Ambrose good-bye and started outside. "Or did you already put it in the car?"

"I didn't bring one," Adrian said. "I hadn't planned on staying until I'd already gotten here, so I just borrowed some of Ambrose's clothes and things."

He kept walking toward the car, but turned around a few seconds later when he realized Natalie wasn't beside him any longer. She had stopped dead in her tracks and was staring at him in shock.

"What?" he asked, confused.

"You borrowed somebody else's clothes?" she asked, pronouncing each word slowly and carefully.

"Ambrose's, yes," he said, a little impatiently. "He's my brother, after all, and I knew his clothes would be immaculate. And they were." Shaking his head a little, he reached out to grab her hand so he could lead her to the car. He'd enjoyed his time with his father and Ambrose, but he was ready to go home.

She pulled her hand from his grasp. "Adrian, _you borrowed somebody else's clothes_."

"Yes, I did." He was exasperated now. "So?"

" _So_?" She kept staring at him. "I go away for _three_ _days_ , and all of a sudden you're… you're voluntarily staying over at your brother's house, and borrowing his clothes, and inviting people over to socialize."

He reddened. Put like that, he could understand, a little, why she felt so discomfited. "I didn't plan on any of that. It just sort of… happened," he said lamely.

"Maybe I should go away more often," she said, resuming her walk to the car.

"Bite your tongue," he said, frowning at the very thought of it. He pressed the button on his key fob to unlock the car doors.

She grinned at him as she opened the passenger door and slid inside.

After they'd driven a few miles in silence, he gave her a sideways glance. "'Maybe I should have found someone to stay with him'?" he asked.

Her cheeks reddened. "You seemed so sad when I left," she said defensively.

"Of course I was sad," he said. "But that didn't mean I couldn't take care of myself for a few days."

"I know." When he gave her another sideways glance, she repeated, more forcefully, "I _know_. I just… I was worried."

He was silent for a long moment. "It's true that… in the past… I wasn't very good with being on my own. But that isn't the case anymore."

She started to speak, but he cut her off, saying, "And I'm not saying I _like_ being without you. But I don't want you to think that you _can't_ go away for a weekend with Julie or whatever because you need to stay with me. I can handle it."

"I know you can," she said softly. "I told Ambrose today that I was proud of him, but I don't think I've told you that yet, and I should have. I'm really, _really_ proud of you."

He carefully pulled into their driveway, put the car into park, and turned it off. Julie, he noted, had beaten them home. "You're proud of me because I'm a grown man who managed to survive the weekend by himself?"

She smiled. "That, and I'm proud of you for a lot of other things. For driving, and helping me with all the wedding planning, and taking care of me after the accident, and so much more."

He rolled his eyes, and she pressed, "Adrian, just look at yourself now, and think about how you were only a year ago. Hell, six months ago. Look at how you've _changed_. It's really remarkable."

He shrugged. "I have you to thank for it."

"No, you don't," she insisted. "Maybe I was the catalyst, but you changed _yourself_. You should be proud of what you've accomplished. I am." She tilted her head. "And Trudy would be, too."

She could pay him no greater compliment. "Thank you," he said quietly.

"You're welcome."

They smiled at one another, and she patted his hand. "Let's go inside before Julie thinks we got lost trying to find the front door."

"Okay," he agreed.

Before he could open his door, she leaned over and kissed him, softly and sweetly.

"Four days," she said, her eyes warm with promise.

He grinned. "Four days."


	37. Chapter 37

On Wednesday afternoon, two days before the wedding, Dr. Bell opened the door of his session room to find a very agitated Adrian Monk pacing the waiting room while talking on his cell phone.

"Sweetheart, calm down," he was saying. "We'll find a replacement, I promise. I know a few judges, and so does Leland. There has to be _someone_ available, even on short notice."

He noticed Dr. Bell in the doorway and held up a finger, indicating that he'd be done in a moment. "Natalie, I need to go, Dr. Bell is waiting. I'll start making calls the minute I'm done, okay? … Okay, bye."

He ended the call and gave Dr. Bell a flustered smile. "Sorry."

"That's quite all right," Dr. Bell said, ushering Adrian into the session room and closing the door. "Wedding problems?"

"Actually, yes," Adrian said, dropping into his usual chair. "Cassandra called Natalie about an hour ago to let her know that the officiant scheduled to perform the wedding had to fly to Pennsylvania for a family emergency this morning, and the back-up officiant is in the hospital with a broken leg — a biking accident on Memorial Day, apparently." He rubbed his temples.

Dr. Bell leaned back in his chair and crossed one leg over the other. "Did you know either of them well?"

"No. We met George — the one who had to fly to Pennsylvania — to go over the ceremony wording and such, but only once." At Dr. Bell's puzzled expression, Adrian explained, "The Four Seasons keeps two officiants on staff, part-time, for couples who don't have an officiant in mind already. We didn't, so we had Cassandra hire George, with the second officiant as a back-up. But now _both_ of them are out of commission."

"Ah, I see."

"Natalie's frantic," Adrian continued with a sigh. "I'm hoping either Leland or I can call in a favor with a judge, but it's such short notice, and a lot of them go on vacation this time of year."

"If you'd like, I could do it," Dr. Bell offered.

Adrian blinked at him. "Excuse me?" he asked, sure he'd misheard.

"I could do it," Dr. Bell repeated. "I'm an ordained minister, and as such I'm authorized to perform weddings in the state of California."

Adrian stared at him in disbelief. "You... you are?" He'd never seen any indication that his psychiatrist was a particularly religious man.

Dr. Bell chuckled. "My niece in Fresno wanted me to officiate at her wedding last summer, so I became ordained online through an outfit called the Universal Life Church. It's perfectly valid, and legal."

"Are you serious?" Adrian could hardly believe it was true. "You'd really be willing to marry us?"

"Why not? It seems like the ideal solution, since Anna and I will be at the wedding anyway. What do you say?"

"Give me just one moment," Adrian said. He very deliberately pinched the skin on the back of his hand until he yelped in pain. The shocked expression on his face melted into an elated smile. "Since I'm apparently _not_ dreaming, I say yes — just as long as you really don't mind."

"It's my pleasure," Dr. Bell said, laughing at his reaction. "I'll relax my prohibition on cell phone usage during sessions just this once. Why don't you call Natalie and let her know right away?"

"Thank you," Adrian said gratefully. He took out his cell phone, but before he dialed, he allowed himself a smug grin of satisfaction. "I'm so glad I let Natalie talk me into inviting Harold Krenshaw."

Dr. Bell laughed again as Adrian called Natalie to give her the good news.

* * *

Other than the snag with the officiant — now happily resolved — Cassandra assured them that every other wedding detail had been seen to and confirmed.

"We're all set," she said calmly, as they sat in her office going over the plans. It was five-thirty, and their rehearsal was set to begin in half an hour. "The staff will start setting up and decorating tomorrow afternoon at one, and I'll be on site to supervise until it's time for me to dress. I've already confirmed the flower deliveries with the florist, and I went over the cocktail party and reception menu with the kitchen and bar staff again yesterday."

She consulted another list. "I also talked to the photographer, the videographer, and the pianist for the ceremony this morning; they're ready to go, as is the DJ for the dance."

Adrian and Natalie exchanged excited smiles. It was really happening — their wedding was tomorrow. The waiting was almost over. In twenty-four hours, they'd be husband and wife. _Finally_.

"Now, let's review the schedule for tomorrow," Cassandra said, pulling up a document on her laptop. "Natalie and the other bridesmaids will get here around three, after their salon appointments, and they're going to get ready in Peggy and Bobby's suite."

Peggy and Bobby had officially moved out of Adrian's old apartment a few days previously and had taken a suite at the Four Seasons until Sunday; Jonathan was staying with them, and Julie planned to stay in their suite the night of the wedding as well so she could be on site for the next day's brunch.

"Adrian, since you and the groomsmen are getting ready off-site, you don't need to be here until four. Once you arrive, you'll want to find my assistant Samantha; she'll be in Pre-Function Room A, which is off the main ballroom, and she'll have your boutonnieres ready for you. You and Ambrose can wait there until the ceremony begins as well. We'll start seating guests on the terrace at four-thirty, and the ceremony will start at five sharp. It should only last about twenty minutes, so we'll plan to start pictures at five-thirty, unless the receiving line is still going on at that point. If all goes smoothly, you'll be done with the pictures by six-fifty, just in time to go into the ballroom for dinner. We'll cut the cake at eight and start the toasts at eight-fifteen. I've instructed the staff to start clearing and setting up for the dance at eight-thirty; the dance will start at nine and go until midnight."

She made a note on her computer and asked, "Are your overnight bags for tomorrow packed?"

"Yes," they answered in unison.

"Good. Adrian, give yours to Samantha when you get your boutonniere; she'll already have Natalie's, and she's going to take them both to the bell desk for me. They'll be taken up to your room, and before the reception I'll go by the front desk and get your key cards, which I'll then give to you, Adrian — Natalie won't have pockets."

Natalie grinned at that. Her wedding dress most definitely did not have pockets.

"After the dance, you can go straight up to your room." Cassandra let her eyes twinkle at them. "I'm sure you'll be so exhausted from the busy day that you'll want to go right to sleep."

 _Don't bet on it,_ Adrian thought, but only grinned in response. Natalie squeezed his hand and rubbed her thumb along his palm, causing him to shiver slightly.

"On Saturday, the brunch will go from eleven a.m. to one p.m. I've scheduled a nine a.m. wake up call, but you can use the alarm clock in the room as a back-up if you'd like. Check-out is normally at noon but I've arranged a two o'clock check-out for you, as well as for the brunch guests who are staying the night at the hotel, in case you don't have time before brunch. Of course, you're free to check out earlier if you choose."

She consulted her notes again. "What about your honeymoon luggage?"

"Packed and ready to go," Natalie answered. "It's already in the car."

"Excellent," Cassandra said, checking off an item on a list. "That means you can leave directly for your honeymoon right after brunch. Do you have a long drive?"

"No comment," Adrian said dryly.

Cassandra chuckled. "Well, it was worth a try. Do either of you have any questions for me?"

Adrian and Natalie glanced at one another and shook their heads. "I can't think of anything," Natalie said. Not for the first time, she felt profoundly grateful that Cassandra was the one handling all of the details. If she had been the one to have to coordinate schedules and vendor deliveries and decorators, she would have gone insane.

Cassandra checked her watch. "It's five forty-five, so we should get down to the terrace for the rehearsal."

As they filed out of her office, she said, "By the way, Natalie, you look fabulous. I love your dress."

"Thanks," Natalie said, beaming. She'd taken Julie's advice and had donned the blue satin cocktail dress she'd worn to the SFPD Gala on New Year's Eve.

"I love her dress, too," Adrian remarked as they started down the stairs. "Mainly because she was wearing it the first time I kissed her." He grinned mischievously. "And the second time, and the third time…"

Natalie elbowed him playfully. "Oh, stop it." But she was smiling at him.

Cassandra laughed. "You guys are so cute. I'm really going to miss working with you."

"That's sweet of you to say," Natalie said, touched by her comment.

"It's absolutely true," Cassandra said, opening the door that led into the ballroom corridor, adjacent to the terrace. "You've heard the term 'Bridezilla'? I've had to work with more than a few of those, and often the grooms aren't much better. I'd enjoy my job a thousand times more if all my clients were as pleasant and cooperative as you two have been."

"So would I," Adrian quipped, and the three of them were laughing as they stepped out onto the terrace.

Cassandra spotted Dr. Bell and immediately went over to confer with him. Adrian only had a chance to glance quickly at the assembled people — it looked like almost everyone had already arrived — before Sharona hurried over, dragging someone by the hand.

Adrian looked at her companion blankly at first, but recognition hit an instant later. " _Benjy_?" he said in disbelief. He struggled to reconcile his memories of the scruffy, scrawny preteen he'd known with this tall, lanky, rather handsome young man.

"Hi, Adrian," Benjy said, smiling.

Adrian wasn't entirely sure what came over him, but he found himself clasping the boy to him in a spontaneous, heartfelt embrace. "Look at you!" he said, releasing Benjy a moment later but keeping his hands on his shoulders. "You're taller than I am!"

He was an even six feet tall. His wavy hair, now worn fairly short and sleek, had darkened to a rich chestnut brown, but he still had Sharona's piercing blue eyes.

Benjy reddened, simultaneously shocked and delighted at the unexpected hug. His mother had told him how Adrian had changed, but he hadn't really believed her until he'd witnessed it for himself. "It's really good to see you again," he said, entirely truthfully.

His gazed shifted to Natalie and his eyes lit up, just like Sharona's did when she was pleased. "And you must be Natalie."

"I'm happy to finally meet you, Benjy," Natalie said, smiling warmly at him as she shook his hand. "I've heard so much about you from your mom and Randy."

"Likewise," Benjy said with a grin. "I'm hoping that after tomorrow we might be able to have a conversation that _isn't_ about the wedding."

"Don't count on it," Sharona laughed.

The Davenports came in at that juncture, followed by Julie and Jonathan, and Natalie lightly touched Adrian's arm. "I'm going to go talk to my mom for a minute."

As Natalie hurried over to them, Benjy leaned closer to him. "Adrian, who's that girl over there?" he asked, his voice low, nodding his head in the direction Natalie had gone. "The one in the pink dress?"

Adrian followed the direction of his stare. He apparently meant Julie, who was chatting with her uncle. "That's Julie," he replied, raising his eyebrows slightly at the young man's slack jaw and wide eyes. "Julie Teeger, my new stepdaughter," he clarified, flushing a little, but feeling oddly pleased. It was the first time he had called her that, out loud, to anyone other than Natalie.

"Wow," Benjy said under his breath, his gaze never wavering.

Sharona and Adrian exchanged faintly amused but slightly uneasy glances.

Adrian's eyebrows shot up in earnest when Benjy asked, "Is she seeing anyone?"

"I – uh – I don't know," Adrian stammered, entirely out of his depth.

Sharona rescued him. "You should probably ask her that yourself, Benjy," she suggested gently.

"Excuse me, everyone," Cassandra called loudly, drawing their attention. She was standing the middle of a makeshift aisle formed by two rows of white chairs; they'd be taken back down by the staff once the rehearsal was over, as the full set-up wasn't scheduled to begin until tomorrow afternoon. "It's six o'clock, and it looks like everyone's here, so I'd like to get started."

Not for the first time, Adrian blessed Cassandra's innate punctuality. Benjy, with another glance at Julie, went to sit on the sidelines and watch the proceedings.

Sharona lightly punched him in the arm. "Ready to practice getting married?" she whispered as Cassandra began issuing orders instructions like a military commander addressing troops.

"Oh yeah," he whispered back, his eyes following Natalie as she took her father's arm, per Cassandra's instructions, in preparation for their practice walk down the aisle. "I'm more than ready."

* * *

The rehearsal went smoothly, largely in part due to Cassandra's competence and efficiency. She was able to keep things moving without being a tyrant about it. She neatly deflected and redirected Peggy when she piped up with various suggestions, and she tolerated, with good humor, Adrian's claims that he had to repeatedly practice kissing the bride because he didn't have it quite perfect yet.

"Believe me, it's perfect," Natalie assured him, to the amusement of the rest of the wedding party.

"What, no comment from the peanut gallery?" T.K. said to Julie, tongue firmly in cheek.

Julie heaved a long-suffering sigh. "My wedding present to them is a moratorium on snarky comments, from the start of the rehearsal until the end of the brunch." She gave her mother and Adrian a mock glare. "But once the honeymoon is over, all bets are off."

"We'll take what we can get," Adrian said wryly, but he winked at her, and she grinned back at him.

The rehearsal lasted about an hour, and afterwards they all trooped into the hotel restaurant for dinner. They had a private dining room, the same one they'd have for the brunch on Saturday, and it was an enjoyable evening of eating and drinking, talking and laughing.

Adrian noticed that Benjy had managed to snag a seat next to Julie, and the two teenagers spent the evening deep in conversation. He also saw that the Ellisons, who'd arrived at the hotel earlier that afternoon, were sharing a table with the Davenports. Like the last time they'd seen one another, Marcia and Peggy were chattering nonstop.

As the dinner was winding down, Adrian and Natalie discreetly slipped out. They wanted a few minutes of privacy together; after they parted ways that evening, they wouldn't see each other again until the wedding ceremony the next day.

Adrian was going home with Ambrose and Jack Sr. tonight. The rest of the groomsman, as well as Natalie's father, would join him there on Friday afternoon to get into their tuxes. The original plan had been for Adrian to stay at Leland's and get ready there, but when these plans had been discussed among the groomsmen the previous Sunday, Ambrose had suggested using his house instead. It was bigger than Leland's place, and more convenient to the hotel.

Natalie was going back to the house with Julie, and the two planned to spend a quiet morning together before it was time to meet the other bridesmaids, along with Peggy Davenport, for their salon appointments.

For tonight, Adrian and Natalie took refuge in the same secluded corner of the terrace in which they'd spent most of New Year's Eve. They spent a few desperate minutes kissing hungrily; somehow, the waiting seemed more unbearable than ever now that their wedding day was so close.

"I can't wait for tomorrow," Adrian murmured, his lips wandering down her cheek.

"Me neither," she agreed, her arms looped around his neck.

"I don't suppose I could persuade you to bring this dress along on our honeymoon, could I?" he asked, running his hands along the smooth satin on the lower back of her dress.

She shivered slightly as his hands teased the point where the bare skin of her back met the edge of the dress. "Why?"

He kept his mouth very close to her ear and spoke very softly, so that only she could hear. "Because I keep fantasizing about making love to you while you're wearing it."

"Adrian," she protested weakly, blushing. The terrace corner was secluded, but they weren't exactly in private. He'd never spoken to her quite so… explicitly… in a public place before.

"Well?" he said, pulling back slightly so he could look at her. "Will you bring it?"

She considered. "I would, but I don't think I'll have a chance to put it with our luggage before we leave on Saturday, since you're taking the car tonight."

His face fell, and she couldn't help but smile. "I'll make a deal with you, though," she said, running her hand down the lapel of his suit jacket. "After we get back from our honeymoon, we'll arrange a quiet evening at home, just you and me, and I'll wear this dress… just as long as _you_ wear your SFPD uniform."

He grinned. "You want me to wear my uniform?"

"Oh yeah." Now she put _her_ mouth next to his ear and spoke softly. "You're not the only one who has fantasies."

His eyes gleamed with anticipation. "That's a deal."

They kissed again, softly and longingly, and then Natalie sighed. "We'd better get back before they think we decided to elope after all."

"I suppose you're right," he said with a similar sigh. He gently touched his forehead to hers. "I'm going to miss you."

"I'll miss you, too." She took his arm and they began walking back towards the restaurant. "But remember, we'll see each other again in less than twenty-four hours," she reminded him. "And starting on Saturday, we'll have an entire week together… just the two of us."

"It can't come soon enough," he said, and she knew exactly how he felt.

As they approached the dining room, they saw Marcia Ellison wandering near the doorway. When she saw them, she brightened. "There you are," she said with relief. "I wasn't sure if you'd already left."

"Not yet, but probably soon," Adrian said, glancing at the clock on the dining room wall through the open door. "Did you need something?"

"Actually, I had a question for Natalie," Marcia said, looking at her with a smile that was soft and hesitant. "Peggy invited me to come with to the salon tomorrow, and to get dressed in her suite along everyone else, but I thought I should check with you first. I don't want to intrude if you want to keep it only to bridesmaids and your family."

"Of course you can be there," Natalie said, touched that Marcia had been considerate enough to ask, especially given that her mother obviously hadn't thought about doing so before issuing the invitation. "You're family, too."

Marcia's smile bloomed, full and delighted, and tears welled in her eyes. She gave Natalie an impulsive hug. "Thank you, dear." She smiled at Adrian, too, and squeezed his arm affectionately. "I'll see you both tomorrow."

Once she'd left, Adrian reached out and touched Natalie's cheek, very gently. "Thank you for including her." He knew not all women would be willing to be so gracious or generous with their fiancé's former in-laws.

She smiled up at him. "Like I said… she's family."

He leaned down and kissed her, not caring that there were other people milling about just inside the door or watching them from the public part of the restaurant. After they drew apart, Julie came out of the dining room, carrying Natalie's purse in her hand, with her own bag slung over her shoulder. "Mom, are you ready to go?" she asked.

Natalie sighed reluctantly. "I guess so." She took her purse from Julie and smiled up at Adrian again. Rather than kissing him again, she reached up and touched his cheek, just as he had done to her a few moments earlier. "See you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow," he echoed, and watched them leave.


	38. Chapter 38

Natalie awoke on the morning of her second wedding day feeling surprisingly rested. She'd expected a restless night, with possibly a nightmare or two due to nerves and excitement, but instead she'd slept soundly and dreamlessly. Perhaps the long bubble bath and the two glasses of wine she'd indulged in last night had helped with that, or maybe Julie's presence had kept her relaxed.

She glanced over at the other side of the bed and was surprised to see it empty. Julie had slept with her last night, just as they often used to do when Julie was younger. The tradition had started during Mitch's deployments – when the emptiness of her double bed became too much to bear, Natalie would bring Julie in to sleep with her. Somehow, snuggling with her baby girl had made Mitch seem closer. After Mitch had died, she'd been unable to face sleeping in the bed alone for a long time, and cuddling Julie had made the nights a little less lonely.

As Julie grew older, though, it happened less and less, which was only natural. Of course, thunderstorms and bad dreams always called for bed-sharing, but even so the times they shared the bed had become few and far between. Natalie had mourned the loss of the tradition – they'd still occasionally snuggled together before bedtime, talking and laughing, but even that had stopped as Julie had started her teens and her evenings had been consumed with homework and friends.

So she hadn't objected at all last night when Julie had climbed in beside her. "Just for old time's sake," she'd said with a grin. They'd talked and laughed a little bit, but Natalie had soon drifted off to sleep, thanks to a combination of the busy day and the wine she'd had.

Now it was the morning of June fourth. Today, she'd become Mrs. Natalie Teeger Monk.

She'd remained resolute about taking Adrian's last name, but as a sort of compromise with herself, she'd decided to drop her middle name of Jane – which she'd never really liked, anyway – and replace it with Mitch's last name instead. She didn't want to wholly give up that connection with Mitch, and with Julie, and Adrian had approved of her decision wholeheartedly. Somehow, she'd known he'd understand.

In a way, she was grateful that her second marriage was to someone who understood the complex feelings that came with losing a spouse. Granted, Adrian's reaction to his spouse's death had been much more drastic than hers, but he'd made enormous strides in the last few years, and especially in the last six months.

She _wasn't_ glad that either of them had had to suffer that loss in the first place, but even so, the shared experience seemed to be helping them both cope better with the changes ahead. They were happy changes, but they were still changes – and change wasn't always easy.

Her mind drifted to the memory of her first wedding day. It had been an extremely small wedding compared to what was planned today. They'd applied for the marriage license on a Friday morning, purchased their rings that afternoon, and had been married the following Monday, in the office of the base chaplain, who had also performed the very brief ceremony. Two of Mitch's Navy buddies had stood as witnesses.

She'd worn a blue dress — Mitch's favorite color and, as a result, now hers – and he'd worn his dress uniform. She hadn't minded that at all, as she'd loved how he'd looked in it. They'd left on their honeymoon the very next day, flying first to Paris and then backpacking across Europe like nomads until their allotted time and money had run out.

It'd been romantic, and exciting, and she'd been so young – only twenty, hardly older than Julie was now – and so much in love. Life had seemed like a fairy tale come true. She'd had no idea that they were living on borrowed time, or that they'd only have eight years together. She'd imagined growing old with him, but it wasn't meant to be.

Now it was her wedding day, again, and a much different wedding day than she'd experienced the first time around. Instead of a pretty blue dress and an austere military office, with only two other soldiers in attendance, she'd wear an elegant white wedding gown and veil on a hotel terrace, with friends and family surrounding her. Instead of dinner for two at a chain restaurant, she'd have a lavish reception and dance.

But there was one common thread with her first and second weddings – she was madly in love with the man she was marrying, and she couldn't wait to spend her life with him, however long that would be.

A soft knock on the door interrupted her daydreams. A moment later, Julie came in, carefully balancing a tray in her arms, the tantalizing scent of coffee following in her wake. "Oh, good, you're up."

Surprised, Natalie pushed herself up into a sitting position. "What's this?"

"It's your wedding day," Julie said, easing the bed tray down over her legs. "I thought breakfast in bed seemed appropriate."

She'd prepared steel-cut oatmeal with blueberries and bananas, a glass of ice water garnished with a lemon slice, and a steaming cup of coffee. "I asked Cassandra what you should eat for breakfast, and she recommended oatmeal and fresh fruit," Julie explained, settling down on the bed next to her, moving carefully so as not to disturb the tray. "It'll give you energy and won't cause bloating. Sharona wanted me to remind you to stay hydrated, so there's water, too." She grinned. "And I know you can't start the day without coffee."

"Thank you, sweetie," Natalie said, taking a sip of the coffee first thing. It was odd – she'd never been a coffee drinker most of her life, but that'd changed once she'd started working for Adrian Monk. The crazy schedule and odd hours, plus the plentiful coffee always available at the police station, had turned her into an addict.

"You're welcome." Julie settled back on the pillows, crossing her legs at the ankles. "Big day, huh?"

"The biggest," Natalie agreed, taking a bite of her oatmeal. It was delicious. Julie hadn't skimped on the milk or brown sugar, and the fruit was fresh and delectable.

"Are you nervous?"

Natalie chewed contemplatively, and then swallowed. "Sort of," she said slowly. "I'm nervous about the wedding part – I want everything to go smoothly, and I'm hoping that there won't be any catastrophes or dead bodies showing up – but I'm not nervous about the getting married part. Does that make sense?"

"I get it," Julie said, nodding. She couldn't hide her grin at her mother's mention of 'dead bodies.' That sure wasn't something the typical bride worried about on her wedding day. "I don't think you have anything to be nervous about on the wedding front, though. Cassandra rocks at her job. And knowing her, she'd probably hide any dead bodies laying around until after the ceremony."

Natalie laughed. "You're probably right. But you can rock at your job and still have things go wrong." Working so closely with the police department had taught her that lesson time and time again.

"I guess so. Still, she seems to have everything under control."

Julie studied the ceiling contemplatively as Natalie continued eating her breakfast. Finally, she spoke up again. "Mom, can I ask you a personal question?"

"Of course," Natalie answered, taking a sip of her water.

"Has Adrian been sleeping in the guest room just because I'm here?"

Natalie choked on her drink and had to swallow quickly. "No," she said, laughing a little.

Julie looked mortified, but plunged ahead. "I know he was staying in there after he first moved in, but I assumed it was because you were still on bed rest. But then he was still staying in there when _I_ moved in for the summer, even though you were so much better, and I... I just wondered. Is it an OCD thing? I mean, is he going to keep sleeping in there even after you're married?"

"No," Natalie said again, still laughing. "It's nothing like that. It's just..." She stopped, trying to think of how to explain her arrangement with Adrian in a way that didn't embarrass the hell out of both of them. "A few weeks after I came home from the hospital, we mutually decided, for several personal reasons, to wait until our wedding night before we... slept together again."

Julie raised her eyebrows skeptically. "And that night I walked in on you guys on the couch...?"

Natalie blushed crimson. "We'd sort of... given in to temptation. At least, we probably would have if you hadn't come home when you did." She kept her eyes trained on her water glass as she added, very quietly, "The waiting hasn't been easy for either of us."

"But are you waiting because of me? Is it another 'I need to set a good example for my daughter' thing?"

Natalie narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean, 'another'?"

Julie sighed. "Mom, I'm not stupid. I know that's why you hardly ever dated after Dad died. And I'm pretty sure you didn't have sex with anyone else until Adrian, too."

"Julie Anne Teeger!" Natalie wasn't sure whether to be horrified or impressed that she apparently knew so much, but she was _not_ comfortable discussing her sex life with her daughter, even if Julie was technically an adult.

Julie rolled her eyes. "I really don't want to discuss this any more than you do, but it's been driving me crazy, wondering why he's still sleeping in the guest room. Please don't tell me it's because you had this ridiculous idea to set a good example for me."

"It's not ridiculous to want to set a good example for you," Natalie said primly. "And it wouldn't have been a bad example to set. But like I said, we had different reasons – _private_ reasons – for making that choice, and, as of tonight, we're done waiting. From now on, he'll be sleeping in here, with me."

"Well, good," Julie said, almost defiantly. "That's how it should be."

"I'm so glad you approve," Natalie retorted in the same tone.

They managed to glare at one another for a full five seconds before they dissolved into laughter.

When their mirth finally abated, Julie sat up, crossing her legs under her. "Look, Mom," she said, a little hesitantly, "I know I've given you a lot of grief lately – "

"Which you thoroughly enjoy doing," Natalie interjected.

With a shrug, Julie grinned. "Maybe I do," she allowed. "But you know I really am very happy for both of you, right?"

Natalie smiled, partially in relief, as she'd sometimes wondered if Julie was just putting on a show for their sake. "I'm glad to hear you say that, to be honest. I know things happened really fast – "

Julie snorted. "About as fast as a freaking glacier."

Natalie paused with her spoon halfway to her mouth. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"For crying out loud, Mom." Julie rolled her eyes again. "You were in love with him for _years_ before you two finally hooked up."

Natalie's spoon clattered loudly as it dropped into the nearly-empty bowl. "How did you – "

"I'm not sure when Adrian finally took the plunge," Julie mused, ignoring the interruption. "Maybe around a year ago. But I know that's why he gave you Trudy's necklace for Christmas." She grinned at Natalie's expression of open-mouthed astonishment. "Like I said, I'm not stupid."

"I've never thought you were stupid," Natalie said, picking up her spoon again. "But I can't understand how you knew something I didn't really know myself until a few months ago."

Julie shrugged. "I figured it out after Adrian was shot — after we _thought_ he was shot — by Captain Stottlemeyer. The way you acted... it was like you'd lost Daddy all over again."

"Oh, Julie," Natalie said softly, feeling distressed. She'd never intended to make her daughter relive those memories.

"And afterwards, after he was back, you – well, you started looking at him the same way you used to look at Daddy," Julie continued. "It was pretty obvious after that, even though you tried to hide it."

Natalie flushed. "Was I really that transparent?"

"Only to me," Julie said with a smile. "I don't think Mr. World Famous Detective had the first clue."

"You're right about that." Natalie couldn't help but chuckle. "But what made you think that _he_ had started feeling that way about _me_?" she probed, curious in spite of herself.

Julie pondered this for a moment. "It was around the time you were all freaked out about the voodoo doll thing. I could tell he was _really_ worried about you. Especially after you were nearly killed by the 'Psycho Paramedic'," she said, using the nickname the media had given Angeline Dilworth.

"He was?" Natalie couldn't help but ask. Julie hadn't been there to see her fall into Adrian's arms after he'd stopped the ambulance, and to her knowledge no one had told her about it.

Julie grinned. "You were pretty out of it in the hospital, but when I got there, he didn't notice me at first. I saw him holding your hand and stroking your hair while you were sleeping."

"Really?" Natalie didn't have very clear memories of the immediate aftermath of that particular case, but she could have sworn she'd felt someone doing exactly that – holding her hand and stroking her hair – when she'd been in the hospital afterwards. At the time, she'd simply dismissed it as a hallucination due to the toxins she'd accidentally ingested.

"I wondered if he'd ever make a move when you were actually conscious, but he didn't, not that I could tell — at least, not until Christmas, when he gave you Trudy's necklace. After that, I was pretty sure things were going to start to happen, especially with the way he was looking at you all day. And the way you guys were acting with each other after I got home from Pebble Beach confirmed it — plus, there was the fact he'd taken off his wedding ring."

In retrospect, that explained why Julie hadn't seemed altogether shocked when she'd mentioned seeing them kissing on New Year's Day, Natalie realized. "Forget theater," she said, impressed. "With observational skills like that, maybe you should be a cop."

"One cop — or former cop — in the family is more than enough, thank you," Julie returned, laughing. "I have to admit, though, I didn't see the marriage proposal coming. Especially not so soon after you guys started officially dating. _That_ was a shock."

" _Tell_ me about it," Natalie agreed. "Why do you think I nearly fainted when he proposed?"

Julie smiled apologetically. "I would have warned you, but, well — he wanted to surprise you."

Natalie laughed. "It all worked out for the best." She glanced at her engagement ring with a smile, mentally reminding herself to move it to her right hand before the ceremony. She'd opted not to have her wedding ring and engagement ring soldered together, deciding to wear one on each hand instead.

Thinking about her rings reminded her of something else. She moved the bed tray off of her legs — she'd finished her breakfast, anyway — and went over to her dresser, from which she extracted a small wrapped box. She returned to the bed and offered the box to Julie. "I have a present for you."

Julie took it with a surprised smile. "You gave me my maid of honor gift last weekend."

Natalie had gifted all of her bridesmaids pearl jewelry sets — necklace, bracelet, and earrings — to wear with their dresses. Julie, however, had received a pearl hair comb instead of a necklace, since she had already planned to wear Trudy's pearls with her dress.

"This isn't a maid of honor gift," Natalie said, smiling. "This is — well, it's sort of a present from your father and me."

Julie's brows drew together as she unwrapped the small package and lifted the lid from the white cardboard box. She withdrew a burgundy velvet jeweler's box, one that she recognized immediately. It was the same type of box that had held her mother's engagement ring. "Mom, what is this?"

"Open it," Natalie urged with the same soft smile.

Julie gently pried open the lid and gazed in wonder at the delicate heart-shaped gold necklace resting on the shiny black backing. "It's beautiful," she said, but she was still puzzled.

"Mr. Faddis made it from my wedding ring," Natalie said. "My _first_ wedding ring — the one your dad gave me when we were married."

Julie's eyes filled with tears. "Oh, Mom," she said, her voice shaking with emotion, fingering the necklace reverently. "Thank you."

"I don't expect you to wear it with your bridesmaid dress; I know you're wearing Trudy's pearls," Natalie said, struggling to hold back her own tears. "I just — today, especially, I just wanted you to know that I will never stop loving your dad. I hope you know that I'm not trying to, well, replace him, and — "

Natalie was taken aback when Julie started laughing through her tears. What was so hilarious? She'd thought they'd been having a rather tender moment.

"I'm sorry — it's not funny — but you sound just like Adrian," Julie said, wiping tears from her face amid her laughter.

"How so?" Natalie asked, mystified.

"He said practically the exact same thing — almost word-for-word — the day he told me he wanted to marry you," Julie explained. "He also said he'd never try to usurp Dad's place in my heart."

Natalie was so stunned that she didn't know whether to laugh like Julie had, or to start crying in earnest.

"He was so worried about it," Julie sniffed, laughing harder even though tears were spilling down her cheeks. "It was kind of cute, really."

It was a day for laughing _and_ crying, Natalie decided, and joined in the merriment even as her own tears started.

"Grandma's going to kill us," Julie said, hiccupping, when they'd finally gotten themselves under control. "We're going show up at the salon and our eyes are going to be all red and puffy."

"I'm sure they'll have eye cream or something to help with that," Natalie managed while blowing her nose. "God knows I'm probably going to be crying my eyes out today, anyway."

"Bring on the waterproof mascara," Julie said, and for some reason that sent them off in gales of laughter again.

"It's a good thing I stocked up on tissues," Natalie gulped, grabbing a box from her bedside table.

"I'll say," Julie agreed. "I haven't cried this much since your — " She stopped herself, appalled. "I mean, it's been a while."

"Since my what?" Natalie pressed, curious, although she could guess.

Julie flushed. "Since your accident," she admitted. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that."

"It's all right, Julie," Natalie said gently. "I'm not going to have another panic attack."

Julie smiled timidly. "It's just — today is supposed to be a happy day, and I don't want to bring up any bad memories for you."

She had a point there, Natalie acknowledged, but on the other hand, they really hadn't talked about what had happened that night, not really. Since they were spending the whole morning together, and they were all emotional anyway, it seemed as good a time as any.

"I _want_ to talk about it. How did you find out?" she asked.

Julie drew in a long, shuddering breath. "Randy came to the dorm to get me. It was late, so I knew there was something wrong when I saw him at the door. He said you'd been in a car accident, hit by a drunk driver, and he'd come to take me to the hospital. I called Grandpa while we were on the way, and he said he would leave right away and get there as soon as he could."

Natalie nodded silently.

"When we got to the hospital, Adrian was already there. I took one look at him and I thought — " Julie gave a funny kind of gulp. "I thought he was going to tell me that you were dead. The way he looked — it was — I think he must have looked like that the day that Trudy — " She shook her head violently.

Natalie handed her a tissue so she could blot some of the tears on her face.

"Anyway, I said his name, and he stood up. He just stood up and looked at me, and he said _my_ name, and I went over to him, and then he — " Julie smiled a tiny smile. "He hugged me."

"He _hugged_ you?" Natalie repeated.

Julie nodded. "I asked him right away if you were dead, and he said no — he almost shouted it. He said no, you were alive, but that we didn't know anything else, and we should just sit down and wait for news." She lifted her hands and dropped them again in a helpless gesture. "And we waited for a really long time. But you know what?"

"What?" Natalie said softly.

"He never let me go," Julie said wonderingly. "I remember thinking afterwards that that he must have been freaked out because I'd been hanging on him and blubbering all over him the whole time, and for a while I even fell asleep on him, but he never let me go. It was like — " She smiled again, a little self-consciously. "It was almost like having Daddy with me, in a way."

"Don't mind me," Natalie choked, grabbing a tissue for herself. "Keep going."

"Well, as I said, I fell asleep for a while," Julie resumed, "and I woke up because Dr. Hector came in and everyone was standing up. She came over and she told us that you were going to be okay." She heaved a ragged sigh, brushing her hand over her eyes. "I hope I never have a night like that again. It was horrible."

"I can imagine," Natalie murmured.

"After that we went up to a different waiting room, one by the ICU, so we could be there when you were brought up. And that was when Adrian said the accident was his fault."

"He said _what_?" Natalie said, louder than she'd intended, causing them both to jump.

"He was really beating himself up about it," Julie confessed. "He'd said terrible things to you, and you were so mad that you'd driven off, so it was his fault that you'd been hit."

"Well, that's just ridiculous — " Natalie began indignantly, but Julie cut her off.

"I told him that. And I told him what you always tell me about how families hurt each other sometimes, but we apologize and then we forgive." Julie shrugged. "I think it helped. It must have, because he smiled and he said I sounded just like you."

Natalie laughed at that.

"Anyway, I went to call Grandpa to give him an update, and when I came back Adrian was sound asleep on one of the couches, so I decided to take a nap too. The next thing I knew, the nurse was waking us up and saying we could go see you."

Julie began twisting and shredding the wadded-up tissue in her hands. "She took us to your room, and we went in, and… and…" She doubled over and began sobbing like her heart would break. "Oh God, Mom."

Natalie gathered her in her arms like she was a toddler again. "Shhhh…" she soothed. "It's all right, honey. I'm just fine."

"You are now," Julie choked. "But that day… when we saw you… it was awful. All I could think was that you looked so _broken_. I knew Dr. Hector had said you'd be okay, but you didn't _look_ like you'd be okay. I think Adrian was kind of shell-shocked too. He said your name, and I think I said hi to you, but neither of us really talked."

"We were only allowed to be in there for ten minutes, and when we went back to the waiting room, I just fell apart. Kind of like I just did." She gave Natalie an apologetic smile. "I fell apart, and Adrian hugged me again, and he said that we had to be strong for you." She took a deep, cleansing breath. "Mom, he was… he was just amazing. I really don't think I could have gotten through it without him."

"He has a way of being strong when you least expect him to be," Natalie murmured, and Julie could tell she was deeply moved.

"Grandpa showed up just then — it took him longer to get there than he'd hoped because of a flat tire — and it helped to have him there, too," Julie continued. "He told Adrian that Grandma was with him, but that she didn't want to come in without Adrian's permission, and she'd leave if he wanted her to."

Natalie blinked. Her mother — her pushy, domineering mother — had been downright _humble_?

"At first, I thought Adrian was going to say she had to leave, but he didn't. He just nodded when Grandpa asked if Grandma could come in. After she did, things were a little awkward between them, but they were at least polite to each other."

Julie scrubbed her hands over her face. "Grandpa and Grandma went to see you, and after they got back Dr. Bell came in with Dr. Hector, and we all decided to leave the hospital for a while and get some rest. I went with Grandma and Grandpa to their hotel, and Dr. Bell and Dr. Hector took Adrian back to his apartment. I think it was around six in the morning by that time."

"That was a long night," Natalie said sympathetically.

"Longest night of my life," Julie agreed. "We went back to the hospital around one in the afternoon, I think, and Adrian was already there. Not only was he there, but he'd gotten a _cell phone_ because he wanted to make sure the hospital could reach him no matter where he was. I couldn't believe it." She grinned at the memory.

"We talked a little bit about his visit with Cassandra earlier that day, and then Grandma made me and Grandpa go get coffee so she could talk to Adrian alone. By the time we got the coffee and got back up to the ICU, they were sitting together and smiling at each other like they were old friends, and from then on she was really nice to him."

"That's… pretty remarkable," Natalie said, feeling dazed. Granted, she'd witnessed her mother and Adrian getting along for months now, but it was still incredible to hear how it had come about. She'd never really asked either of them how it had happened — all she'd known was that her mother had apologized to him at some point.

"She was really grateful to him for letting her stay," Julie mused. "I think she really regretted that her last conversation with you before the accident had been so angry and bitter, and I'm pretty sure Adrian told her that he felt the same way about _his_ last conversation with you, so they probably bonded over that."

Once again, Natalie was impressed by her daughter's insight. "You're probably right."

Julie heaved a sigh. "Well, that's about it. We talked to Dr. Harmon, and after that Adrian went to sit with you. He came running back into the waiting room about an hour or so later with this huge smile on his face. He said you were awake and asking for me, and he all but pushed me out the door. I went to your room, and you didn't have that scary ventilator thing in your mouth anymore. Your eyes were open, and…" Her smile beamed now, bright and happy. "And you said my name."

Natalie remembered that, vaguely. The first sixteen hours or so after she'd woken up in the hospital were largely a blur, but she remembered seeing Adrian, and Julie, and talking to both of them. "Thank you for telling me all of that. I know it wasn't easy, but… I'm glad you did."

Julie shrugged self-consciously. "Well, I'm glad you didn't die," she said, brutally honest. "And I'm glad you didn't have to postpone the wedding."

"Me too," Natalie said, glancing out the window. The sun was shining brilliantly and she was grateful that the weather forecast cited a 0% chance of rain. The Four Season's terrace was shaded, but even so, she was happy the sun would be shining when they said their vows.

Julie looked out the window too, and then she looked at the clock. "Yikes, we need to be at the salon in an hour. I'd better get these dishes downstairs." She slipped the box holding her new necklace into the pocket of her pajama pants before hefting the breakfast tray into her arms. "And Mom… thanks again."

Natalie wasn't sure if she was referring to the necklace or the conversation — or both — but she just smiled. "You're welcome."


	39. Chapter 39

Adrian had a special pilgrimage to make the morning of his second wedding day. Both Ambrose and his father had offered to come with him, but he'd declined, preferring to make this particular journey alone.

It was a crisp 63 degrees when he pulled into the cemetery parking lot. The sky was clear and dazzlingly blue; it promised to be a beautiful day. He'd worried about the possibility of rain, but there wasn't so much of a wisp of a cloud hanging about.

He leisurely walked the familiar paths, enjoying the pleasant day, and in short order he reached Trudy's grave. He gazed at her tombstone for a long moment before kneeling to lay the flowers he'd brought — yellow roses, her favorite — at its base.

"Hello, Trudy," he said. "I think you probably know why I'm here. And I think you know what's going to happen today." He paused, and then continued. "After you died… I never thought I'd fall in love again, and I _never_ thought I'd get married again. But, lately, I've been wondering if you arranged the whole thing. I wouldn't put it past you."

He chuckled, very quietly, and touched the base of the finger where he'd once worn his wedding ring — and where, in a few short hours, he'd wear his new wedding ring. "Thank you for sending her to me. Thank you for saving her after her accident. And thank you for… for teaching me how to love in the first place. I couldn't love Natalie as much as I do if I hadn't loved you first."

With difficulty, he swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. "I'm so glad you showed me that I can love differently, because I'm _so happy_. Almost as happy as I was with you." The tears almost came, then, and he fought them back. "You once said that all you wanted was for me to be happy, and… I am. I didn't think it'd ever be possible, but I finally am."

He sighed, and leaned down to touch the hard granite. "I'll never stop loving you," he murmured, and turned to leave.

Adrian jerked back in surprise when he saw Dwight and Marcia Ellison standing several feet away. He hadn't heard them approach, but then, he hadn't been listening for anyone else.

"Hello, Adrian," Marcia said, smiling. "I wondered if you'd come here today." Beside her, Dwight carried a bouquet of yellow roses, nearly identical to the one he'd brought.

He blushed, and couldn't think of a thing to say. How long had they been there? Had they heard what he'd said?

"We just got here," Dwight said, almost as though he'd been able to hear Adrian's thoughts. "And we didn't plan… that is, we didn't know you'd be here right now."

"I'm not surprised we had the same idea this morning," Marcia said, moving to stand beside Adrian. She threaded her arm through his as she gazed at Trudy's grave. "Did you say everything you wanted to say?"

"Yes," Adrian said, relaxing a little. "I don't need to come here to talk to her, but I thought… today, I thought that I should."

"I understand," Marcia said, patting his arm.

Dwight came forward and laid their flowers on the grave next to the ones Adrian had placed there. He flanked Marcia, and for a long minute the three of them stood in silence, lost in memories.

At length, Marcia spoke, and her words surprised him. "I felt such joy on Trudy's and your wedding day. After she died, I didn't think I'd ever feel that kind of joy again. But, today, I do."

He turned, slightly, to look down at her. "You do?"

She nodded, tears shimmering in her eyes. "It's the kind of joy you feel when you know that your children are truly happy." She squeezed his hand.

"You'll always be our son, Adrian," Dwight added. "And we're so pleased that you've found someone so wonderful with whom to share your life again."

"Thank you," he managed, moved nearly to tears by their words. "I'm honored to be your son."

"I hope Natalie won't mind if we consider her our – well, our adopted daughter," Marcia said, a tear escaping as she looked at Trudy's grave. "She already reminds me so much of Trudy."

Adrian tensed. "You don't think that I'm only marrying her because – "

"No, of course not," Dwight reassured him. "We know that no one could ever replace Trudy in your heart, nor would you try to replace her."

"It's just not at all surprising that you would gravitate toward the same type of woman," Marcia said, smiling. "Kind… compassionate… spirited."

"Stubborn," Adrian added with a laugh, then sobered. "Courageous."

"And Trudy loved Natalie like a sister," Marcia said softly. "She was devastated when we moved away and lost touch."

"I'll bet," Adrian murmured. He remembered how sad Trudy had seemed when she'd told him about the little girl she had once baby-sat.

"You know, we were a little bit worried at first, when you told us you were going to remarry," Dwight confessed. "We were afraid that… well… we thought that you might not want us in your life anymore."

"You know I'd never let that happen," Adrian told them, feeling a pang of guilt that he hadn't made that clear from the outset.

Dwight shrugged. "We wouldn't have blamed you if you'd wanted to distance yourself from your old life," he said. "But after we met Natalie, and we found out who she was… we didn't have to worry anymore. It was like a message from Trudy telling us that she was still watching over you."

Adrian smiled. "I thought the same thing," he admitted. "Natalie thinks so, too. She says it's a comfort."

"And so it is," Marcia said with a smile. "Well, I need to meet the ladies at the salon shortly, so we'd better get going."

"I'm sorry if you wanted some time alone – " Adrian began.

"Oh, don't worry about that," Marcia said, brushing off his concerns. "We plan to come back on Saturday after we check out, too." She kissed her fingers and pressed them to the tombstone, then turned to smile at Adrian. "Is there anything you want me to tell Natalie when I see her?"

"Actually," Adrian said, suddenly inspired, "there's something I'd like you to give her, and Julie, too, if you wouldn't mind. I was planning on dropping them off at the Four Seasons on my way back to Ambrose's, but I'd feel better knowing you were going to take care of them for me."

"Of course," Marcia agreed amiably, taking his arm as they walked back to his car.

* * *

Clad only in her undergarments and a thin silk robe, Natalie sat very still, as her mother had commanded, so that she wouldn't mess up her perfectly-styled hair or her intricate make-up job. At least the beautician, at her request, had used water-resistant cosmetics. She had a feeling she wasn't through with her tears for the day.

They had just finished at the salon and were now in her parents' suite. Peggy and the bridesmaids (sans Cassandra, who was still supervising the decorating) were dressing, chattering gaily as they did so, but Natalie was under strict orders to wait until they were finished before getting dressed herself. They wouldn't even let her put on her jewelry. So, she waited in a quiet corner of the suite's large master bedroom, listening to the "getting ready" playlist Julie had put together – all upbeat, cheerful songs such as "Chapel of Love" and "Walking on Sunshine."

Having finished dressing, Marcia came over to her, looking classically lovely in a flowing ivory skirt and matching top. She was carrying a small box in her hands. "Natalie, dear," she said, smiling gently, "I saw Adrian earlier today, and he asked me to give this to you."

The brown cardboard box was small, about the size of a postcard, and tied with a wide white ribbon. "Where did you see him?" Natalie asked as she took the box in her hands.

Marcia hesitated for the barest of moments before replying, "We met – unexpectedly – at the cemetery this morning."

Natalie only smiled. "I thought he might go there."

Marcia smiled fondly and touched her shoulder. "Well, I'll leave you alone to open that," she said, and went over to help Peggy with her necklace.

Curious, Natalie pulled at the ribbon and lifted the lid of the box. The first thing she saw was a square white card with thick black writing on it – writing that she immediately recognized as Adrian's copperplate script.

 _Ten Reasons I Can't Wait to Marry You_ , it said.

She grinned with genuine delight, and lifted that card to reveal another.

 _10\. You're my best friend, and I love spending my days (and my nights) with you._

She lifted that card as well.

 _9\. I want to see your smile every morning when I wake up, and I every night before I go to sleep._

The cards continued in a similar fashion all the way to the last, which read, simply,

 _1\. I love you._

Below that, he'd written, _See you at 5 o'clock. – Adrian_

She carefully replaced the cards – in order – and placed the lid on the box, retying it with the bow. Then she hugged it to her. Leave it to him to come up with the most perfect, utterly romantic wedding day gift a bride could ask for. She would treasure it for the rest of her life. She just hoped he liked her gift to him just as much.

* * *

Standing in his childhood bedroom, Adrian carefully tied his bow tie – again. This was his tenth attempt, and if he didn't get it right this time, he feared he'd need to ask someone for help. But as he studied the results in the mirror, he was, finally, satisfied. The knot was perfectly straight and the loops of the tie were symmetrical, unlike his other lopsided attempts.

With a brisk nod, he carefully pulled on and buttoned the matching vest. The suit jacket came next, and once that was on, he took a step back to gaze at himself in the mirror from head to toe.

The tie looked good, the vest was straight, and the coordinating pocket handkerchief was perfectly even. His lapels were smooth and lint-free, the pleats of his pants were razor-sharp, and his shoes were shined to a blinding gleam.

He was ready.

A knock at the door startled him. A second later, Leland came in, dressed in an identical tuxedo. "Hey, looking good," Leland said with a smile.

"Is it time to leave?" Adrian asked, minutely straightening his sleeve cuffs.

"Not quite yet. I think Ambrose and your dad still need a few more minutes." With a crooked smile, Leland produced a small box from behind his back. "Hey, uh, Natalie asked me to give this to you."

Adrian took it with a smile. "Thanks," he said, holding the box gingerly. It fit neatly in the palm of his hand and was surprisingly heavy. He couldn't imagine what it was.

"I'll let you know once everyone's ready," Leland promised, stepping out again and closing the door.

Carefully, Adrian pried open the lid of the box. There was a folded white piece of paper, first, and when he lifted that out he saw the beautiful, and obviously antique, gold pocket watch resting on white cotton batting. The face of the case was smooth and worn from many years of handling, the attached gold chain slightly tarnished.

He lifted the watch gently, reverently. His fingers found the spring that opened the case and he watched the seconds dial tick around the perimeter of the watch face for a full thirty seconds before he opened the note that had been included.

 _Dear Adrian_ , it read in Natalie's fine, careful handwriting, _this watch belonged to Mitch's great-grandfather, grandfather, father, and then Mitch. It was one of his most treasured possessions; he never took it with him on deployments because he was afraid something would happen to it. I've kept it all these years. It has a history of being owned by honorable, upstanding men, and I think he'd want that tradition to continue. I love you, and I can't wait to marry you. Yours forever, Natalie._

He ran his fingers over the face of the watch before gently closing the lid. He held it to his lips for just a moment, and then slipped it into his pocket. The box and the note went into his overnight bag. "I promise I'll be worthy of it, Mitch," he murmured, fingering the watch. "And worthy of her."


	40. Chapter 40

_Last chapter! This one is very long but I wanted to end on an even number and a multiple of ten, as is befitting a Monk story. Thanks for reading, and thanks for all the great reviews/feedback!_

* * *

Natalie stood straight and still as a statue, her eyes closed, while Julie slowly and carefully buttoned each of the thirty lace-covered buttons at her back. "Now can I look?" she asked when her daughter was finished.

"Not yet," Julie replied. She motioned for T.K. to hand her the veil and gently fastened its nearly invisible loops to the nearly invisible hooks attached to the headband nestled in Natalie's hair.

"Now?"

"Not yet," Julie repeated, motioning for Sharona to hand her the bridal bouquet. "You need to see the whole picture." She took her mother's hands and guided them to the stem of the bouquet, positioning them so she'd have a firm but comfortable grip. She stepped back, satisfied, and said, excitement tinging her voice, "Okay, now you can look."

Natalie opened her eyes.

Her blond hair was sleek and shining with just a hint of curl, and held away from her face by a sparkling rhinestone headband that complemented the decorative rhinestone accent band on the high empire waist of her dress. Sheer white floral lace covered her back and shoulders, forming short cap sleeves and then dipping to the point of the sweetheart bodice to form a V-shaped neckline before spreading to flow smoothly over the rest of the white silk dress. The dress was floor length, but she had opted for no train so the silk and lace hem just barely brushed the floor and the tips of her white heels. Behind her, the white tulle veil, trimmed with the same dainty floral lace on her dress, floated down her back.

Diamond drop earrings, on loan from her mother, were sparkling at her ears, and the diamond pendant Adrian had given her for Christmas shimmered at her throat. She held a bridal bouquet profuse with tumbling white lilies, blue orchids, and green ivy.

She looked like a bride. She _was_ a bride.

Natalie was so dazzled – both by her reflection and her realization – that she couldn't speak.

And she was utterly shocked when her mother, who rarely lost control, and seldom displayed anything but a calm, unruffled demeanor, burst into tears.

"Mom?" she said, a little panicked, laying a hand on her mother's arm. "Are you okay?"

"I can't help it," Peggy sobbed, covering her face with her hands. "You look so beautiful. My baby girl."

Marcia gathered the weeping Peggy into her arms. "She's just having a mother-of-the-bride moment," she told Natalie as she patted Peggy's back. "It happened to me, too."

"You look seriously gorgeous," Sharona told her, joining her in front of the mirror.

"Like a princess," T.K. agreed.

"Adrian's going to trip over his own tongue when he gets a load of you," Julie predicted, and that comment made them all laugh, even Peggy.

Cassandra slipped in at that moment, and her smile bloomed when she saw Natalie. "You look spectacular," she declared. "Absolutely spectacular."

"Is everything set downstairs?" Natalie asked, her stomach churning with a combination of anticipation and nerves.

"The staff just finished with the setup and the decorations. The terrace and ballroom look perfect," Cassandra assured her. "And I happened to see a very handsome groom going into the ballroom with his groomsmen as I was leaving to come up here."

"Adrian's here?" Her face lit with a delighted smile. It wasn't that she'd been concerned that he wouldn't show up, but it was a relief that he'd made it in without incident. She had been half-afraid he'd stumble upon a dead body between Ambrose's house and the hotel. He seemed to have a knack for discovering corpses at the most inopportune times and places.

"I think if she gets any happier she's going to float away," Sharona murmured to T.K., as Cassandra slipped away to don her bridesmaid dress. "Maybe we should tie weights to her shoes."

T.K. giggled. "So, do you have everything from the rhyme?" she asked Natalie.

Natalie blinked. "The rhyme?"

"You know… 'something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue.'"

"Oh," Natalie said, her brow furrowing. She'd forgotten about that old tradition. "Well… my dress and shoes and veil are new. I borrowed the earrings from my mother. And some of the flowers in my bouquet are blue. But something old…" She bit her lower lip. "I guess not."

T.K., who was now wishing she hadn't said anything, patted her arm. "That's all right. It's just a silly rhyme anyway."

"Maybe your necklace counts?" Julie offered. "It's not new, and Adrian originally bought it over twelve years ago."

"Maybe," Natalie agreed, but her tone was doubtful. Twelve years wasn't exactly "old," and at any rate it was still fairly new to her, since she'd only owned it around five months.

"I have just the thing," Marcia declared, digging in her evening bag. She pulled out a square-shaped wad of tissue paper, which she carefully unfolded to reveal a delicate white muslin handkerchief trimmed with white lace. It had faded with age but had been carefully preserved.

"I carried this handkerchief on _my_ wedding day, which definitely makes it old. Trudy carried it on her wedding day, too." Marcia carefully folded it around the stem of Natalie's bouquet and secured it with a small rubber band she had likewise dug out of her purse. "She had it wrapped around her bouquet just like this."

"Marcia, are you sure?" Natalie breathed, delighted but apprehensive. "This is a family heirloom."

"Of course I'm sure," Marcia replied, hugging her carefully so as not to crush her dress or her veil. "You're family, too."

Natalie smiled and had to blink back tears. "I'll be careful with it," she promised. "And I'll make sure you get it back after the ceremony."

Marcia patted her arm. "There's no rush. I only brought it because I thought it'd be nice to have something from Trudy's wedding with me today. But, given the circumstances, I think she'd prefer that you carry it."

"Thank you," Natalie murmured, reverently fingering the delicate lace of the handkerchief. She, too, liked the idea of having something from Adrian's first wedding with her today. And if Adrian kept the watch she'd given him in his pocket during the ceremony, as she suspected he would, he'd have something that Mitch had carried at _her_ first wedding. There was a nice symmetry to that – a bridging of their old lives with the new.

"You're a beautiful bride," Marcia said, so softly that Natalie could barely hear her. "And I wish you and Adrian a very long, very happy life together." She squeezed Natalie's arm and slipped away.

"Well, looks like you're all set," Julie said cheerfully. "Now we just need to wait until it's time to go downstairs."

Cassandra, now dressed in her bridesmaid's dress and wearing the pearl set Natalie had given her, came over and gently guided Natalie away from the mirror and into a chair. "Rest for now," she told her. "You're going to be on your feet for quite a while tonight, so it's best to sit when and where you can while you have the chance."

"And you need to hydrate," Sharona added, handing her a water bottle with a straw sticking out of the top.

Natalie rolled her eyes but sipped the water anyway. She was thankful she'd only had a small salad for lunch, as her stomach was flipping wildly due to anxiety and anticipation. The cool water helped, and she made herself breathe deeply and evenly as the minutes ticked by.

Her bridesmaids chatted amongst themselves, but she remained silent. She found she didn't want to talk — she wanted to spend her last minutes as Natalie Teeger, as a single woman, in quiet reflection.

It had been a long, difficult journey since losing Mitch, but life had taken a decidedly interesting turn once she had met Adrian Monk. Until him, she'd concentrated solely on providing a stable home for her daughter, with her own ambitions and interests taking a backseat. He had given her life real purpose for the first time in a long time. Solving crimes alongside him had been an incredible education, and an adventure. He'd driven her absolutely crazy, but somehow along the way she'd fallen for him.

Even now, she couldn't pinpoint exactly when. But Julie had been right — when she'd thought she'd lost him, it had almost been like losing Mitch all over again. It had almost been worse since it had seemed so senseless and pointless, and because it had (allegedly) happened at the hand of his best friend. And when she'd found him again — even now, the memory of seeing him, _alive_ , trying to hide amid those silly barrels, made her throat tight and her eyes burn with the effort of holding back tears. It'd been one of the happiest moments of her life.

Incongruously, she suddenly thought about the first time they'd — almost — kissed. She'd been so drowsy at the time that she'd almost thought she'd dreamed it. But he'd definitely tried to kiss her, and he probably would have succeeded if Leland hadn't called. Afterwards, he'd kept his arm around her as they watched movies, and she'd happily snuggled against him. It had felt so _right_. Like she'd been searching for something for a long time and had finally found it.

That feeling had only intensified during their first _actual_ kiss on New Year's Eve. He had been shy, and sweet, and hesitant — at first. It had taken him a remarkably short time to relax and start enjoying himself, and in short order they'd both gotten rather carried away. The intensity that had developed between them had been disconcerting — yet it had been thrilling, too. He'd made her feel young and vivacious again, like a teenager on prom night.

She thought ahead to their upcoming wedding night, and she trembled slightly in anticipation. If their wedding night was going to be anything like their engagement night, then Cassandra was absolutely right — she _did_ need to rest while she could. But this night would be different than any of the others they'd spent together. Not only would they be married, they'd be… open. Open to whatever might happen in the future. Open to the possibility of new life.

Natalie found herself daydreaming about a chubby, red-cheeked baby with curly black hair and dark eyes, and she was so engrossed in the fantasy that her mother had to call her name twice to get her attention.

"What?" she said, blinking to reorient herself to the here and now.

"It's time to go downstairs, dear," her mother said, quite gently for her. "Your father's waiting outside the suite."

"Oh!" Putting her water bottle aside — she'd been absently sipping it while lost in thought, so it was almost empty — she carefully rose to her feet, smoothing her dress down as she stood. "What time is it?"

"Quarter to five," Cassandra answered. "Are you ready?"

" _More_ than ready," Natalie said, squaring her shoulders. She flashed a smile at Julie. "How about you?"

"Let's get this show on the road," Julie said, picking up her bouquet.

With Cassandra holding the door for her, Natalie stepped into the hallway outside the suite, where her father was waiting. He looked handsome, almost regal, in the classy tuxedo, and she smiled happily, thinking for a moment that if her father looked that good, Adrian must look incredible.

Bobby, who'd been pacing the floor much as he had the day she'd been born, turned to face her when he heard the door open. When he saw her, his jaw dropped. His eyes, wide with admiration, traveled from the tip of the glittering headband in her hair to the tips of her white heels peeping out from under her dress.

"You look… extraordinary," he said, and his face contorted with emotion as tears sprang to his eyes.

"Oh, no, don't start," Natalie begged, struggling to hold back her own tears. "If you start crying, then _I'm_ going to start crying, and once I start I'm not going to be able to stop."

"I'll try to restrain myself," he said, his voice cracking. "But you're not making it easy, you know. I'm so proud of you. You've worked so hard to get to this day."

Her father didn't know the half of it, Natalie thought. But she knew he was referring to her recuperation from the injuries she'd received in the accident. "Thank you, Daddy," she said, giving him a warm hug. "For everything. This whole wedding wouldn't have been possible without you."

"I'm sure you and Adrian would have managed to plan a charming wedding on your own," he said, easing her back and smiling. "But I'm glad I could help make today extra special for you."

He offered her his arm, and she took it. Then, the bridesmaids and Peggy trailing after them, they started towards the elevator.

It was time to get married.

* * *

Adrian was so keyed up he felt as though he was about to crawl out of his own skin. Time seemed to have slowed to a snail's pace. He twitched slightly as he fingered the watch in his pocket for the millionth time and listened to the soft piano music in the background — _Clair de Lune_ from Debussy's _Suite Bergamasque_ — as more guests were seated. He could hear the murmuring of conversation, the rustling of cloth and faint scraping of chairs as people sat, muffled sounds of traffic from the streets below. He resisted the impulse to pull out the watch and check the time again.

"Nervous?" Ambrose murmured from beside him.

"Impatient," Adrian replied. He turned his head slightly to glance at Ambrose, who stood beside him as they waited for their signal to walk out to their assigned places on the terrace.

Ambrose cleaned up nicely in his sleek black tuxedo, with the small lily-and-orchid boutonniere pinned to his lapel and the glossy silk vest and tie underneath the jacket. He'd never worn a tux before, Adrian suddenly realized, but despite that he wore it well. "How are you doing?" he asked quietly.

"I'm all right," Ambrose said, apparently sincere. His face was placid, and, unlike Adrian, he stood calm and composed as they waited. "Were you this on edge before your first wedding?"

He thought back. "I was worse," he confessed with a chuckle. "I think Leland was tempted to sedate me."

Ambrose smiled at that. Then, unexpectedly, he placed a hand on Adrian's shoulder. "I'm sorry I wasn't there."

Touched, Adrian turned to fully face him. "I understood your reasons," he said softly. "You don't have to apologize."

"Yes, I do," Ambrose said, a trifle stubbornly. "I should have been there, and I wasn't. Just like I should have been there after Trudy died, and I wasn't."

"Ambrose — "

"Let me finish," Ambrose insisted. "I just wanted to say… I'm here for you now. And I'm going to be here for you — for both of you — from now on, no matter what happens. That's all."

"Thank you," Adrian said, his throat so tight he could barely manage the words. "That means a lot."

Ambrose nodded self-consciously, his hand dropping to his side. "Do you think Natalie's as jittery as you are?"

Adrian laughed. "Maybe. Probably." He fingered the watch in his pocket again as he thought of the note she'd written. _I can't wait to marry you._

At this time tomorrow, he mused, they'd be on their honeymoon. The last few days and weeks had been such a whirl of preparation that he could hardly believe they were about to have an entire week all to themselves. He let himself dream about it briefly, let himself dream about the quiet and the tranquility. And Natalie.

He was so lost in daydreams that he jerked in surprise when Dr. Bell entered the room. The psychiatrist wore a black suit and, instead of a tie, a dapper black-and-silver paisley ascot. The boutonniere on his lapel matched Ambrose's, and he carried a slim black leather binder in his hands.

"Hello, Adrian, Ambrose," he said, smiling easily.

Adrian straightened. "Is it time?"

"Just about." Dr. Bell eyed his patient, unable to suppress a smile. He'd never seen Adrian look so excited, or so tense. "Are you ready?"

" _More_ than ready," Adrian said emphatically, unable to stop his shoulders from twitching.

"Take a deep breath," Dr. Bell urged. "Then let it out, slowly."

Adrian obeyed, and felt some of his tension fade away. There was plenty more where that came from, but it was a small improvement, at least.

"Good. Just keep doing that for a while – it'll help." Dr. Bell studied him for a moment, then nodded in satisfaction as he checked his watch. It was very nearly five o'clock. "All right. Here we go."

With Dr. Bell in the lead, the three men filed out of the small room and made their way to the terrace. There was a hum of quiet anticipation among the assembled guests as the men took their respective places near the wrought-iron arch that was swathed with delicate white tulle and bedecked with flowers.

Adrian stood, his hands clasped behind his back, his outward tranquility belying his inner agitation. His eyes swept over the crowd – every single seat was filled – and he marveled, again, that so many of their friends and acquaintances had made the effort to attend. He saw Harold Krenshaw staring at Dr. Bell in slack-jawed disbelief and had to quickly look away, his lips twitching. He caught Joe Christie's eye and couldn't suppress a smile when his former partner gave him an enthusiastic thumbs up. He gave a slight nod to the mayor – the mayor! – the district attorney, and the police commissioner, who were all sitting together, along with their wives. He was going to have to speak to them at some point after the ceremony and personally thank them for coming – perhaps during the reception.

His eyes drifted to the front row. Dwight and Marcia were sitting next to Jack, in the place reserved for the groom's parents – Adrian had requested this. Dwight winked at him while Marcia smiled, and Adrian grinned in return. He continued looking down the row to the other side of the aisle, where Peggy was sitting, having been escorted there by Jonathan just a few minutes earlier. There was an empty seat next to her where Bobby would sit after he'd walked Natalie down the aisle. His eyes met Peggy's, just for an instant, and he noted with some surprise that her eyes were already swimming with tears. He hastily averted his gaze before her tears instigated some of his own.

The music changed, grabbing his attention. The Four Seasons' pianist began playing what he recognized as the opening bars of the wedding party processional – a simple solo piano version of Pachelbel's _Canon in D_.

It was really happening, Adrian realized. He was about to get _married_. Again.

He clenched and unclenched his fists, breathing deeply as Dr. Bell had instructed, and watched as Jonathan escorted Cassandra down the short aisle.

He hadn't seen the bridesmaids' dresses until now, and he thought they were beautiful. For their main wedding color, Natalie had chosen a particular shade called "Pacific blue," a deep shade of blue-green that mimicked the color of the ocean on a cloudless summer day.

The sleeveless chiffon dress Cassandra wore as she and Jonathan slowly walked down the aisle was in the deep Pacific blue color, with a shimmery band in a slightly deeper shade accenting its empire waist. From there, the skirt fell in soft pleats to her shimmering blue shoes. The V-shaped neckline showed off her pearl necklace nicely.

Adrian noted with some amusement that Jonathan kept stealing glances at Cassandra as they walked. Come to think of it, they'd seemed to get along extremely well at the rehearsal dinner, too. It seemed that Natalie hadn't been too far off the mark there.

When the two reached the end of the aisle, both of them flashed a smile at Adrian and split off to take their assigned places. As they did so, Randy and Sharona began their walk, followed by the Stottlemeyers.

Then Julie walked down the aisle solo. Adrian felt a swell of what could only be described as fatherly pride as he watched her. She was lovely in her blue gown. The front of her hair was swept up in a pearl comb, and the rest of her rich golden-brown hair fell in thick curls down her back. Trudy's pearls gleamed at her throat. She was, indeed, the spitting image of her father, and Adrian hoped that Mitch was as proud of her as he was today.

When she reached the end the aisle, she gave Adrian a wide grin and a wink before she stepped into her assigned place.

The last notes of the wedding party processional faded away, and there was a long moment of expectant silence. Adrian strained to catch a glimpse of Natalie, but she and her father were still hidden from view. Then the pianist, after a nod from Cassandra, began playing the opening notes of Wagner's "Bridal Chorus."

At the time they'd chosen the music, Adrian had been rather surprised – yet pleased – that Natalie had opted to go with such a traditional song for her entrance. It was the same one Trudy had chosen. He'd mentioned as much, and Natalie had merely said in reply, "I think almost every girl dreams of walking down the aisle to 'Here Comes the Bride.'"

The assembled guests rose to their feet as the music began, and as they did so Bobby Davenport came into view, with Natalie on his arm.

Adrian could only stare at her in unequivocal awe. He took in every detail – the sweeping lace of her dress, the misty veil at her back, the sparkling rhinestones on the high waist of the dress and in her hair, the glitter of diamonds at her ears and on her throat – and he felt amazed and incredulous and thankful all at once.

She was breathtaking. Exquisite. Magnificent. There weren't enough words in the English language to describe her beauty. And yet she wanted to marry _him_. If this was a dream, he never wanted to wake up. He wanted to freeze this moment in time and spend the rest of his life just gazing at her surpassing gorgeousness.

For her part, Natalie could barely feel her feet touching the ground as she walked down the aisle with Bobby Davenport, who was fairly strutting with pride, while she struggled to keep the tears at bay. Adrian's face – oh God, his face. He stood there, still as a statue, tall and incredibly handsome in the black tuxedo with the deep blue vest and bow tie, looking at her as if he couldn't believe she was real. She knew exactly how he felt. She was having some trouble believing it, too.

It was really happening. She was about to get _married_. Again.

She and her father reached end of the aisle, and Bobby locked her in a crushing embrace. Natalie hugged him back, hard, as he whispered in her ear, "That was wonderful. Thank you for making your father so happy." He kissed her cheek as he drew back, and then he gently placed her hand into Adrian's.

Their eyes met as she stepped forward to stand beside him. For a single instant the entire world disappeared, and it was just the two of them standing there, gazing at one another in speechless joy and wonder.

Dr. Bell quietly cleared his throat and opened his binder as the last notes of the processional faded away, bringing them back to the here and now.

"Please be seated," he said, and the assembled guests obeyed.

"We have gathered today in the love of friendship and family to celebrate the blending together of two lives," Dr. Bell began, his gaze directed toward the guests. "While Adrian and Natalie come before you today as two, they will leave this place as one, united in marriage. As family and friends, each of you has played some part in bringing them to this moment and, in various ways, you all will continue to support and contribute to their relationship. We solemnize this unique time in their lives and make it meaningful by entering into it in an attitude of respect for their deep commitment to each other."

His attention shifted to the bride and groom standing before him, and his tone became a little slower, a little more solemn.

"Adrian and Natalie, you realize that in a greater sense no other person or officiant can truly marry you. Only you can marry yourselves. By your commitment to love each other, to work with all your hearts toward creating an atmosphere of care and respect, and by your willingness to face together the fears and uncertainty that underlie human life, you marry yourselves more surely than any document we will put our signatures on today. Your love for one another, and your willingness to accept each other's strengths and weaknesses with understanding and consideration, will cement the firm foundation of your life together."

Adrian squeezed Natalie's hand. She'd certainly gone above and beyond when it came to accepting his weaknesses with understanding and consideration.

"Today," Dr. Bell continued, "you commit yourselves to honoring and protecting one another above your separate selves, and to valuing your union above your own interests. In so doing, you will find a wealth of love and peace not otherwise attainable. But with this joy comes a profound responsibility to protect the bond you share. For it is only with continual care that your love is truly secure in the face of life's inevitable tests."

This time, Natalie squeezed Adrian's hand. They'd already endured several difficult tests together, and come out stronger for it. She had no qualms about their ability to weather the storms of life.

"You must regard each other with the deepest respect. You must appreciate each other's talents, foster each other's dreams, and be ever mindful of the many gifts the other offers you. You must inspire and encourage one another. For by strengthening your partner, you strengthen your marriage."

Dr. Bell paused for a moment to let this sink in, then said in a calm, measured voice, "Bring out the very best in each other. Be sparing in criticism and generous in praise for things well done. In communication, be honest and open, for the heart that communicates truth without hesitation earns trust and builds a secure home. Without truth there is no respect, and without respect there is no love. Accept your marriage as a work-in-progress that will hereafter consume your attention, yet never be completed, because a lifelong love requires a lifetime of hard work." He smiled, and for the briefest moment his eyes met those of Dr. Hector, who was sitting in the second row just a few feet away. "But it is a joyous labor, and its fruits are the very richest."

He squared his shoulders slightly and lifted his chin, looking from Adrian to Natalie as he continued the service. "A vast, unknown future stretches out before you. That future, with its hopes and its disappointments, its joys and its sorrows, is hidden from your eyes. But it is a great tribute to your belief in each other that you are willing to face those uncertainties together. May the love with which you join hearts and hands today never fail, but grow deeper and surer with every year you spend together."

He smiled at them and instructed, "Please join hands and face one another."

Natalie handed her bouquet to Julie, and then she and Adrian clasped hands. The pure, unadulterated love that shone on their faces as they gazed at one another had more than one guest wiping away tears.

"Adrian, repeat after me," Dr. Bell said.

Adrian's voice was low and shaking with emotion, but he managed to repeat the words without faltering. "I, Adrian, take you, Natalie, to be my wife; to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse; for richer, for poorer; in sickness and in health; to love and to cherish; until we are parted by death." His voice cracked slightly on the last phrase and he couldn't prevent the slight hitch in his tone. In the audience, Marcia Ellison dabbed her eyes with a tissue as Dwight clutched her hand.

"Natalie, repeat after me," Dr. Bell said this time.

Natalie spoke softly but firmly, her words clear and distinct. "I, Natalie, take you, Adrian, to be my husband; to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse; for richer, for poorer; in sickness and in health — " here her smile trembled slightly, "— to love and to cherish; until we are parted by death." Like him, at the last phrase her voice shook. Behind her, Julie sniffed and blinked back tears.

"May I please have the rings?" Dr. Bell asked. Ambrose fished in his pocket and handed a small, simple white-gold band to him, while Julie gave him a larger, wider band the same style and color.

Dr. Bell accepted both rings and said, "Since ancient times, the ring has been a symbol of the unbroken circle of love, with no beginning and no end. Love given freely has no giver and no receiver, for each is the giver and each is the receiver. May these rings always remind you of the freedom and power of this commitment you have made here today."

He gave the smaller band to Adrian.

"Adrian, place the ring on Natalie's finger and repeat after me."

Adrian did so as he slid the ring onto her finger. "Natalie, I give you this ring as a sign of my vow to love, honor, and cherish you always."

"And Natalie, place the ring on Adrian's finger, and repeat after me," Dr. Bell said, handing her the larger ring.

"Adrian," she said, sliding the ring onto the finger that had worn the ring Trudy had given him for so long, and would now forever after wear the one she gave him, "I give you this ring as a sign of my vow to love, honor, and cherish you always."

The two of them squeezed hands, their eyes shining, as Dr. Bell said, looking out toward the assembled guests, "Today, Adrian and Natalie, you have honored all of us with your invitation to be present with you for this ceremony. And so, this day, you have declared before all of us that you shall live together in marriage. In the traditional way, you have entered into their marriage with the joining of hands, the making of vows and promises, and the giving and receiving of rings, an outward symbol of your voluntary commitment to one another."

He cleared his throat, and continued in a sonorous tone, "Therefore, by the power vested in me by the State of California, it is my great privilege to pronounce you husband and wife."

Smiling broadly, Dr. Bell closed his binder. "Adrian, you may now kiss your bride."

"With pleasure," Adrian said under his breath as he leaned down to do just that. Natalie laughed and threw her arms around his neck as his lips met hers. The enthusiasm of their embrace caused a ripple of laughter among the crowd.

When they finally broke apart, smiling at one another, Dr. Bell intoned, "Ladies and gentlemen, I'm honored to present to you, for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Adrian Monk."

 _Mr. and Mrs. Adrian Monk._ Their faces reflected their stunned joy as they turned to face their guests, who rose to their feet, applauding enthusiastically as the first bars of Mendelssohn's _Wedding March_ rang out in exultation. Julie gave her mother's bouquet back to her, and then, arm-in-arm, the newlyweds sailed back up the aisle on feet nearly as light as their hearts.

When they reached the back edge of the terrace near the ballroom doors, where Cassandra had instructed them to stand for the receiving line, they hugged jubilantly. "We did it!" Natalie cheered, clutching both him and her bouquet tightly as he lifted her off the ground and spun them both around in a quick circle.

"Congratulations, Mrs. Monk," Adrian said, grinning, as he set her down.

"Right back at you, Mr. Monk," she said, her eyes dancing with merriment as she eased back to smile up at him.

Julie and Ambrose, who had followed them up the aisle, joined them a few moments later. "Way to go!" Julie squealed, throwing her arms around them both. She gave Natalie a quick smack on the cheek and relieved her of her bouquet. "I'll keep this for you until you're done."

"Thanks, hon," Natalie said gratefully, threading her arm through Adrian's.

Ambrose murmured quiet congratulations and shyly kissed her cheek. He shook Adrian's hand next, his dark eyes bright with emotion, and then he slipped away to find a quiet corner until it was time for the pictures.

"Are you ready for this?" Natalie asked Adrian as they took their places by the terrace doors.

"Damn the torpedoes," he said cheerfully. He was so giddy with joy that Natalie could have asked him to bathe in a dumpster full of garbage and he would have happily complied.

They stood in the receiving line for what seemed like hours (but was really only about twenty minutes), accepting congratulations, compliments, and praise. "It was such a beautiful ceremony," they heard more than once. Adrian shook hands with gusto, too exhilarated to even think about needing a wipe.

Once that happy ordeal was over, and Cassandra had deftly marshaled the last of the stragglers into the ballroom, they joined the rest of the wedding party for pictures. The photographer, who'd been unobtrusively taking pictures through the ceremony, was brisk and proficient. She was well acquainted with the setup and layout of the terrace, having worked many weddings in that location, and between her and Cassandra they managed to get everyone arranged and organized for various shots with practiced efficiency.

At one point, while they were waiting for the photographer to set up some equipment between shots, Adrian plunked down on one of the guest chairs in the front row and pulled Natalie down onto his lap, grinning at her mischievously.

She supposed she should object, given that they were surrounded by people, but she didn't. After all, if they couldn't engage in ostentatious public displays of affection on their wedding day, when _could_ they? She slid one hand around his neck while holding her bouquet on her lap with her other hand, being careful not to crush the delicate flowers.

It was then that Adrian noticed the handkerchief wrapped around the stem of Natalie's bouquet. "What's this?" he asked, touching it lightly.

Natalie could see the spark of recognition on his face. "It's Marcia's," she said. "You know that rhyme — 'something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue'? Well, I needed something old, and Marcia let me use her handkerchief. She carried it on _her_ wedding day."

"So did Trudy," he said, looking at her with inscrutable eyes.

Natalie nodded. "I know; Marcia told me. Do you have the watch with you?"

He didn't seem nonplussed by the change in topic. "It's in my pocket."

She smiled. "Mitch had it with him when we were married."

He smiled, too, and they gazed at one another until a series of soft clicks interrupted their absorption. They both turned their heads in the direction of the sound, only to see their photographer down on one knee, lowering her camera from her eye and grinning in satisfaction as she checked the digital display. "Great shot, you two. Thanks."

Natalie laughed as Adrian rolled his eyes. "Can't we just go upstairs and start the wedding night early?" he muttered.

"No, we can't," Natalie said, stroking the back of his neck with her finger. "I'm hungry."

"So am I," he said, his fingers tightening around her waist. He gave her a look that fairly sizzled.

She shivered a little in response. Suddenly it _was_ rather tempting to start the wedding night early, but she pushed the impulse aside. She was looking forward to the reception and the dance. "Good things come to those who wait, Adrian," she said, her voice a low, teasing purr.

His expression was pained. "Keep talking to me like that and I can _promise_ that we won't make it to the reception."

"Up and at 'em, lovebirds," Cassandra commanded from across the aisle, laughing. "We have pictures to finish."

Adrian stifled a groan. By his calculations, there were approximately six more hours to go until they could escape to their room. Six long, endless hours of socializing. The things he did for love.

Heaving a sigh, he gently slid Natalie off his lap and stood up himself. The sooner they got the pictures over with, the sooner they could get to the reception, and then they'd be that much closer to the end of the evening.

The pictures were completed at six forty-five, pleasing Cassandra by finishing five minutes ahead of schedule. While the rest of the wedding party headed into the ballroom to take their places at the head table, Adrian and Natalie lingered behind. Now that the pictures were over, Natalie, with Adrian's help, unhooked her veil from her headband and laid it aside.

She carefully removed Marcia's handkerchief from her bouquet so she could return it to her; meanwhile, the flowers and her veil were going to be stored elsewhere by the Four Seasons staff so that she wasn't encumbered with them for the remainder of the evening.

"Want me to keep that for you, Mrs. Monk?" Adrian asked.

Natalie smiled and handed him the handkerchief, which he carefully put in his pocket. "Are you going to call me Mrs. Monk all night?"

"I'm going to call you Mrs. Monk for the rest of our lives," he replied, taking her hand in his.

She laughed. "Well, I certainly hope you don't expect me to call you Mr. Monk."

He tucked her hand in the crook of his arm as they made their way toward the ballroom. "Absolutely not. I think five years of that was enough."

"More than enough," she agreed.

"It's funny how it felt wrong for you to call me Adrian for such a long time," he remarked. "And then, all of a sudden, it felt right."

"I think — " she hesitated for a moment, then continued, "I think calling you by your first name when I was just your assistant felt strange because it seemed so… well… intimate."

"Sharona called me Adrian," he mused.

"She was your nurse before she was your assistant," Natalie pointed out. "That's a very personal relationship." She grinned. "Believe me, I should know. She was my nurse too, remember?"

"No, I don't want to remember," he said quietly as they reached the closed ballroom doors.

She turned to face him. "It's over," she reminded him, enfolding him in a reassuring hug. "I'm completely healed. And now we're married, and we have our whole lives ahead of us."

Instead of replying, he leaned down and kissed her tenderly.

When Cassandra found them, they were still wrapped around each other, completely oblivious to everyone and everything around them.

"Excuse me, Mr. and Mrs. Monk," she said, smiling indulgently.

The newlyweds reluctantly separated. Adrian gave the wedding coordinator a slightly exasperated look as Natalie flushed.

"I have your room keys," Cassandra continued, as if she hadn't noticed a thing. She passed two key cards to Adrian. "Room 1010."

His hand paused halfway toward his pocket. "You're kidding."

Cassandra shook her head, her eyes twinkling in amusement. "We managed to shift some reservations around to make the room available. Your overnight bags have already been brought up."

"Remind me to give you a bonus," Natalie said, grinning at Adrian as he slipped the key cards safely into his pocket.

Cassandra laughed. "You two wait here. I'm going to go tell the emcee that it's time for your entrance."

"Thank goodness," Natalie muttered as Cassandra hurried away. "I'm starving."

"Better eat hearty," Adrian advised. "You're going to need all your strength later tonight."

She raised an eyebrow at him.

"I meant for the dancing," he said, but he winked at her.

"Sure you did," she said, amused.

From inside the ballroom, they heard the sonorous voice of the emcee formally welcoming the guests to the wedding reception and dance. "And now, ladies and gentlemen, let's welcome your host and hostess, the newlyweds, Mr. and Mrs. Adrian Monk!"

Together, they pushed open the ballroom doors, and walked hand-in-hand into the ballroom to the loud applause and enthusiastic cheering of their family and friends.


End file.
